


Star Wars Rebels - Shattering

by Killerkitty641



Series: Star Wars Rebels - Complete Triple Story series [3]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Gen, Mental Mindfuck, OC Inquisitor - Freeform, Sabine and Ezra will have issues, Some Swearing, Teenage banter, The 4th Brother, The Citadel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killerkitty641/pseuds/Killerkitty641
Summary: The war is much darker. When 4 of the crew are captured, Sabine and Ezra set out to rescue them.But instead of a rescue, Sabine is wounded and Ezra is forced to leave her behind. In her eyes, he abandoned her. The Imperials made the best use of the time they had until the crew rescue her, but with another mission looming, how will they deal with the scars that are left?It's rated Teen and up for a reason. There is, as well as the brutality of war, betrayals, depression, loss, and teenage jokes.





	1. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P1 - The Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Recommend you read "A Fallen Hero" and "Breakdown" first, but actually probably won't be necessary. For once.  
> A Fallen Hero: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9265421/chapters/20999492  
> Breakdown: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9297584/chapters/21072239  
> I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of the Ghost crew is captured while on a mission, with the exception of Sabine and Ezra

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P1 – The Unfortunate Incident.

* * *

 

“Come on ‘Bine,” sighed Ezra. “There is no need to roast me before we start a mission. Everyone will be laughing so hard the Empire will find us!”

“Hmm…” she pretended to think. “Fine, but I’m still keeping that picture I drew of you.”

It was a mistake to say that, and she braced herself for what was coming next.

“Oh, so you DO like me!” exclaimed Ezra. “You like me so much you want to keep a picture of me!”

“So I can admire my artistic talent…”

“The only clear space in your room is directly above your bunk, right where you’ll see me every day after you wake up and before you go to sleep.”

Zeb and Hera both sniggered over the comm.

“And you would know about that because you’ve spent so much time in my room?” Sabine returned, knowing full well it was useless.

“I make sure I absorb every detail,” he smirked. “Like how you want to do so to me every time you go into your room.”

“What happened to not roasting each other before a mission?” she asked.

“Now I’ve just got to find that device of yours so you’ll have only me left!”

“EZRA!” She exclaimed as Hera and Zeb laughed. “I do NOT have a vibrator!”

“Your mind can’t repel banter of this magnitude!” he laughed and she punched him hard in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding,” he grinned as he turned to face her, getting an eye-roll in return.

“Remind me why we’re still friends?” asked Sabine as she looked at the base ahead of them.

“Because I’m devilishly handsome and can make you laugh?” he replied confidently.

“Because she needs something proper now that the vibrator isn’t good enough?” laughed Hera.

“For heaven’s sake!” she sighed. “Why do you always go on about something I don’t have.”

“But want,” sniggered Zeb.

“Zeb, I will personally dye your fur if you make another joke about the thing I don’t have OR want. Same goes for all of you.” She looked at the grinning Ezra. “And double for Ezra.”

“What about me?” asked Hera, feigning offence. “You can’t paint me, I have no fur or hair!”

“I’ll steal your clothes when you’re next in bed with Kanan,” Sabine shot back. “And re-paint them all pink. And your device.”

“Sabine!” exclaimed Hera. “I definitely don’t need one of those!”

“She has Kanan,” Zeb nudged Kanan, who sighed. “But, Sabine has Ezra…”

“Zeb, remember what I said…” growled Sabine, even though she was loving the roasting everyone was getting.

“Yeah Zeb,” grinned Kanan. “It wouldn’t be very funny to see you with a different fur colour,” he continued sarcastically. “Maybe something that will make people laugh. Sabine?”

“I have the perfect idea for Zeb,” she said menacingly, causing him to gulp.

“Thank god for that,” said Kanan. “If he continues to annoy you, you may paint him.”

Ezra sniggered.

“And Ezra too.”

“Oh, what, come on, my hair’s great the way it is,” he complained.

“You want the hot pink or the Lasat purple?” Sabine asked him, doing her best not to laugh.

Kanan positioned himself by the base door with Zeb and Chopper.

“Anyway, let’s focus now Spectres. We’ve got to get this VIP. Radio Check.”

“Spectre Two, standing by.”

Chopper beeped.

“Spectre Four, ready.”

“Spectre Five, ready.”

“Spectre Six, praying Sabine doesn’t paint my hair.”

“Shut up Six. I will paint it if I feel like it.”

* * *

 

The Ghost crew were at an Imperial base on Halcor, which was being visited by an Imperial VIP while the cadets were away on an exercise and a lot of the Garrison was preforming ceremonial duties elsewhere. A fluke of nature created a crater with a lining of tough, highly compact metal/rock compound resistant to most of the erosion that took place. The result was a literal hole in the ocean, with several islands around it. Halcyon base lay on the largest island, with a dense jungle covering most of it bar the beaches. The ocean was to the right of the ‘Island’, while the left side ended in a steep drop into a crater. The base stretched out, one side practically touching the water, the other going right into the jungle to the edge of the crater, with a large hanger in the centre. It was, unusually, flat, not like the tall ones Imperials tended to make. The base had multiple doors and a constant TIE fighter overwatch, supported by an AT-AT sitting outside the base. Several squads of Stormtroopers milled about outside, boiling under the sun in their hot armor. Kanan, Zeb and Chopper waited by the most concealed shore door, Ezra and Sabine were hiding in the Jungle and Hera was waiting in the Phantom a mile away, ready to pick them up.

“Spectre Team Two,” Kanan said, talking to Ezra and Sabine. “Move in. Give us the all clear when you’re ready and Team One will breach.”

Ezra and Sabine got up from where they were lying amongst the foliage and began to sneak up the side of the base, courtesy of some suction pads they’d been gifted by the rebels on Arus V, when they’d visited and smashed their squadron shooting record by 70 points. They scrambled over to the nearest air vent, avoiding the odd patrolling searchlight, which used infra-red during the day.

“In position,” Ezra whispered into his comm as Sabine entered the vent, wary of any Imperial sensors that might’ve picked them up. The 2 Stormtroopers on the roof were oblivious to their presence and he hopped down to join her, sealing the vent behind him.

“Spectre Three, open it up,” Kanan ordered, and Chopper beeped as he did so. The lone Stormtrooper guarding the inside of the door was quickly dispatched by a punch from Zeb and they proceeded to re-seal the door once they were inside. The base was deserted.

They moved quickly and quietly, shooting any patrols they encountered with silenced pistols as they made their way to the reactor room. Ezra and Sabine had crawled through the vents till they were just outside the communications room, at which point Sabine had left the vent and primed an explosive on the door.

“Team Two ready,” she reported as she took position to the side.

“Spectres, initiate phase 2,” Kanan ordered, Chopper ready to open the door to the control room.

The door hissed open and they charged inside. 2 technicians turned and were rapidly stunned by Kanan, while the 2 Stormtrooper guards were flung into the wall. Kanan began placing charges as Chopper downloaded Imperial data. Sabine and Ezra had taken out the communications room and signalled were on their way to the VIP’s office.

A pair of red eyes watched patiently as the red dots floated around the map base hologram. Each rebel was electronically tagged when they entered and were being tracked currently as they planted bombs around what they thought was a reactor control room, but was, in reality, a storage room converted to look like a reactor control room.

Chopper beeped urgently.

“What do you mean, there are no files?” Kanan rounded on Chopper.

Chopper beeped again, annoyed at Kanan.

“Oh no…” It was a trap. “Spectres! Abort! Abort!” he yelled into his comm, getting a crackle of audio in return. They were being jammed.

Thrawn smiled slightly as 20 green dots, representing the Stormtroopers, crowded around the door ready to attack. Several more were on their way to the 2 red dots running down the corridor. Those rebels were aware something was up now.

* * *

 

Out in the jungle with the Phantom, Hera had been lounging around in the pilot’s chair, picking her nails and worrying about the mission. Standard stuff, just wondering if something could go wrong.

A tree not far ahead suddenly toppled and she sat up. Another one did so, and another, until a set of legs appeared amongst the foliage, barely illuminated. A head followed shortly afterwards as an AT-AT walked out of the undergrowth. She attempted to take off, but a single, accurate shot exploded directly above her and the Phantom was shoved into the ground by the force of it. She looked up to see it facing her, jungle-camo troops swarming around its feet.

“Freeze rebel,” a Stormtrooper said behind her, backed up by his buddy.

She raised her hands slowly and as soon as they were high enough, one of them slammed her head into the dashboard and attached a pair of handcuffs.

“Grand Admiral,” reported the AT-AT officer. “We have the rebel pilot Hera Syndulla in custody aboard the walker.”

“Excellent,” Thrawn responded, watching the dots on the map. “Commander?”

The base commander stood to attention behind him. “Yes sir?”

“Give me the base defense controls,” Thrawn ordered, and he was given a key-board like thing with dozens of buttons on it. He searched quickly, then pressed one.

In the corridor, Sabine and Ezra suddenly floated off into the air as the gravity was neutralized.

“Gravity’s been neutralized!” yelled Sabine in surprise as she activated her magnetic boots. She stuck to the ceiling.

Several Stormtroopers rounded the corner, magnetic boots activated, and they all jumped onto different walls, firing constantly. Sabine shoved Ezra away as he drifted, helpless. Several green dots disappeared from the map as Sabine fired at them, but they were also getting hits and Sabine only survived thanks to her armour. That armour had weaknesses, a blaster bolt reminded her as it skimmed her exposed stomach.

Ezra crashed into the ‘floor’ and released the detonator he’d been holding. The detonator that spun towards the wall as Ezra desperately tried to ‘swim’ towards it. He was never going to make it and the button struck the wall square-on.

Thrawn frowned as the base rumbled and the hologram vanished temporarily. When it came back, the 2 free red dots were sprinting towards the cliff exit, while the 3 red ones in the control room had been flung against the wall.

“Captain, proceed with breach,” Thrawn said calmly. He watched the green dots rush in and sweep the room, then check on the rebels.

“All alive but unconscious sir,” reported the captain.

“Good.” All that was left were Sabine and Ezra, who were currently running towards the exit. They’d had to go through a store room on the way there and Sabine had grabbed something from one of the shelves.

“What’s that?” inquired Ezra as Sabine put it on.

“Parachute,” she replied, fixing the straps. The open door loomed ahead of them, leading towards an empty landing pad. “Don’t stop running and jump once we reach the edge.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then shut up and grab on to me once we jump.”

A squad of Stormtroopers appeared down the end of the corridor as they reached the landing pad. Blaster bolts began to whizz around their heads as they ran.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” yelled Ezra as they neared the edge.

“Just do it!”

They jumped and Ezra grabbed hold of Sabine’s waist with his arms and legs around hers. She pulled the strap on the parachute and there was a sudden jerk as the chute opened and slowed their fall.

Ezra’s legs had been forced away from their previous hold on hers, so he dangled, arms doing all the work as he hung desperately. He looked down and gave a gasp of horror, before burying his head in her stomach, refusing to look at the jagged rocks and single landing platform below them. 

“Don’t get too comfortable down there,” Sabine told him. “I like you, but I’m not ready for that kind of intimacy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. “Well, maybe not wouldn’t dream of it, but wouldn’t dare to do so in real life.”

Sabine rolled her eyes behind her helmet and they drifted down to the pad. The waves that lapped at the side of the crater had never gotten over, so the inside was bone-dry.

Ezra’s arms felt like they were going to be pulled from their sockets by the time they landed on the bridge connecting the pad and a mine and he let go of her waist with a sigh of relief, shortly followed by a grunt of pain as he checked them.

“That was fun, can I do that again?” he smiled at her.

“Sure, I’ll take you BASE jumping again,” she grinned back as she unstrapped the chute, knowing full well what he really meant.

They ran towards the parked Lambda-class shuttle and Sabine shot both Stormtroopers outside, then the pilot. They settled into the ship and launched, coming out of the crater to see the base on full alert. 6 AT-STs and 2 AT-ATs marched out of the hanger, supported by dozens of white figures. TIE-Fighters launched from the hanger and broke off into search patterns, sweeping the ground.

“They don’t know we have the ship,” commented Ezra.

Sabine spotted something and pointed. “Look!”

They flew over the AT-AT and the Phantom. There was no sign of Hera.

“Spectre Five, Spectre Six, are you there?” Kanan’s voice broke through on their comms.

“Yeah, I hear you Kanan,” replied Ezra. “Where are you?”

“In the base somewhere. I’ve only just broken free and run off to give you one more order before they re-capture me. Don’t come back. Get to the Ghost and get out of here!”

They looked at each other.

“Kanan,” started Ezra.

“Just GO!” he snapped.

They flew up and out to the where the Ghost was parked on one of the planet’s moons. They docked, but didn’t leave. They had to rescue their friends.


	2. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P2 - Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine and Ezra have some bonding after the other Ghost members are captured and they plan to get them back.

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P2 – Alone Together.

* * *

 

Sabine lay on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. Their friends had been captured by the Empire and they’d left. They had no choice, and Kanan ordered them to leave, but she still hated herself for doing so. She struggled to paint, to draw, or anything to take her mind off what’d happened, but she couldn’t think of anything that would cheer her up.

She heard a thump as something fell and went out to check what it was. She found Ezra in the Living room, deep in thought.

“Hey,” she said, noticing the blaster he’d thrown at the wall. “Are you OK?”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Yeah. Just thinking of a way to get them back.”

She leaned on the table in front of him. “What are our options?”

“Not much,” he mumbled, still deeply focused on working out a solution. “The only possible way I think we could get them out is by attacking the prison transfer facility.”

He activated the holotable and a map of the planet zoomed up. He pointed at a certain location and the view expanded to show an Imperial prison facility. It was in a desert, by a cliff, with landing pads in the centre of said facility. There was a shield emitter exiting one corner of the base, surrounded by tower blocks that must’ve belonged to the Imperial officers. There was a road to the main gate that stretched off into the distance and a landing pad that stuck out over the cliff, most likely for important prisoners, with a short monorail network to take them to the main base not far away and a turbolaser mounted on a control tower/garrison building hybrid.

“Our best chance is to go from the outer landing pad,” continued Ezra. “The inner landing pads are too enclosed and we’d be spotted coming in from outside on the ground.”

“They’d expect that,” commented Sabine. “They’d know that’s the easiest way to get in and so would have more guards on it than normal.”

Ezra nodded. “But there’s only the 2 of us. That’s the biggest problem.”

Sabine gave a short laugh, prompting him to look at her in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

She walked around the table and patted him on the shoulder. “Kid, when your only tool is a hammer, all the problems begin to look like nails.”

He shook his head, not understanding.

“You’re not thinking about getting other tools.”

He still looked blank.

“You’re thinking in the context of just the 2 of us, forgetting that we have other rebel cells nearby. With more equipment.”

She smirked as realization crossed his features.

“So we can contact them for help!” he exclaimed, slapping the table.

“Got there in the end.”

“I knew all along,” he tried to pass it off with a smile. “I was just checking if you could see a way for us to enter without needing to.”

“Sure. Scoot kid,” Sabine smiled back and nudged him to move up as she sat down. “How many do you think we’ll need?”

“I don’t know. A lot. They probably increased the guard as soon as they caught the others,” he sighed and she nudged him again gently.

“Hey, at least we have the ship to ourselves,” said Sabine, trying to brighten up the mood.

He looked slyly at her and a grin began to twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Now why would you say that…” he trailed.

“So we can paint something to welcome the others back with,” she elbowed him. “Not whatever dirty thing you’re thinking of.”

“I know you were thinking of the exact same thing as I was,” he teased gently. “As we all know, the good girls are the bad ones that don’t get caught.”

She gave a sigh of mock exasperation and Ezra leaned back on the couch.

"Still thinking about it?" he asked.

"In your dreams."

"Got it in one.”

"Unlike some people in here," she shot back. "Can't even think of a box, let alone think outside of it."

"The box is too small. I can't see it. I'm just that smart."

"Shut up. Tell me something funny," she changed topic.

He shot Sabine an evil look.

“I know about... that thing..."

She looked at him, surprised and a little bemused.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean... the _device_ "

She punched him on the shoulder, even though he was just messing around.

"I swear to god Ezra, one more vibrator joke."

"Fine. You’re probably just waiting for the right time to pounce on me.”

“You always find new ways to say the same thing, don’t you?”

He smirked as he replied. “I could go on all year.”

"Please don't, I was jumped by 2 assholes back in the academy and they said the exact same thing. And then they tried to follow it through with jokes that are even worse than yours."

"What happened then?" Ezra asked, somewhat concerned.

"I dealt with them easily," she reassured him.

"So I guess they are no longer with us," she gave a slight laugh at this.

She then bit her lip as she remembered something else. How she’d made weapons for the Empire, then tried to leave the academy to rise against them, only to have her family betray her and leave her. And then Ketsu left her. She didn’t want to be like them, but they'd left their friends in the hands of the Empire, albeit under Kanan's orders.

“Sorry. Do you no longer find me funny?” he asked, flicking some hair from his face. It’d grown quite a bit since he cut it.

“I do, I do. I was just thinking,” she said sadly.

He leaned forward and put an arm around her.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned. When she looked at him she could see her face reflected back in the blue eyes, a loose strand of hair covering the forehead of a face that looked deeply unhappy.

“Nothing,” she replied, straightening up and leaning back.

“Sabine, it’s clearly not nothing,” he persisted, keeping his arm round her as he straightened up too.

“I’m sorry. It was something that I thought about. Something from my past.” She huffed and looked down, loose hair falling down again.

“Your family?” he asked, gently brushing some hair from where it covered her eyes. She nodded; Even though she’d opened up about it when training with the darksaber, it was still a touchy topic for her

“I was just thinking about how they abandoned me. And then Ketsu abandoned me.”

“You don’t want to be like them,” he guessed instantly, putting her past and recent events together. “You could never be like them. You’re much better than that. Too kind and too brave.”

She tried to smile and he drew her in for a hug. “Sorry Sabine.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“I’ll be here for you.” He whispered. “I promise.”

She pulled back and smiled at him in a way she rarely did. It was one of those warm, open smiles that Ezra loved to see. It signified a trust in him that she rarely gave to anyone, and he felt honored to be given it.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for that. It means a lot.”

Her smile changed to one of happiness, the one when she thought of something she could draw or paint.

“I have the perfect idea of what to draw now,” she leaped up and charged down to her room, leaving Ezra waiting patiently.

* * *

 

Several hours later, he’d contacted another rebel cell and gotten a promise of reinforcements, and had watched a game of some Mandalorian sport that looked like a cross between rugby and jetpack flying. Several players had to be taken off for broken bones before the match was over, with the clan Geza in the lead. He’d then played the computer at dejerik, at which he was thoroughly trounced.

“Ezra, it’s ready!” she called proudly from her room. He got up and entered, to find her admiring the picture she’d stuck on the wall.

“Sabine… it’s…”

The picture was a beautiful image of the two of them, back to back, Lightsabers drawn and ready. But he noted one key point. They were holding hands. They each had a hand clasping the others as they faced out, protecting each other’s backs, faces illuminated by the glow of their weapons as they protected the other. It was one of Sabine's best, a mixture of realism and painting in her own unique style.

“It’s amazing,” he breathed. He wasn’t expecting this at all.

She looked at him, full of pride and joy and he couldn’t help but grin and hug her.

“Hey!” she laughed playfully. “Did I give you permission to do that?”

He looked at her and smirked. “Do I need it?”

“Yes,” she replied, but still returned the embrace and they stayed there for several minutes, enjoying each other’s company.

“What’s that say?” he asked when they broke apart. He was looking at a Mandalorian word underneath the two of them.

“It says unbreakable.”

He looked at her fondly. “Does this mean…”

“I’m not ready for that kind of relationship,” she sighed, shaking her head slightly. She noted his face fell as he looked down and gave him her true feelings. “I might not be ready for that kind of relationship, but I still want to be with you.”

He looked back up and she smiled.

“You are far closer than a friend to me Ezra,” she continued. “I’m not ready for love, but you’re not just a close friend either. You’re like a brother to me and you are the person I trust most here, and I’m happy with that.”

“I knew you could never resist my charm,” he winked at her and hugged her again. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Come on, let’s go watch a movie!” she laughed as she jabbed him in the ribs and squirmed out of the hug, daring him to chase after her, which was a challenge he accepted with delight.

* * *

 

Several hours later, they watched the rebel craft come down to land by the Ghost and its attached Imperial shuttle. They’d watched a film together, which was something Hera rarely let them do and the Empire seemed to always prevent them from doing whenever they had a spare moment by chasing them down again. They'd been leaning into each other, curled up on the couch and enjoying their company as much as the film itself as they waited. Now they were waiting on the Ghost’s ramp, watching as 2 dozen rebels walked their way across the barren, albeit breathable, wasteland.

“I assume you’re our reinforcements,” said Sabine.

The leading rebel nodded. “We’re it. Do you want to fill us in on the plan?”

Ezra nodded and led them to the holotable. “We’re going to go in under the guise of an Imperial transport with me as a prisoner. Since we have no Imperial uniforms, we cannot fake my capture to get us into the facility, only the landing pad. Once we touch down, we kill the deck officer and Sabine will step out to destroy the control tower with a rocket.” He pointed to the tower, then the base entrance, where there was a hanger. “We swarm out and subdue those within the hanger and from there, me and Sabine will grab our friends before the Empire can respond in force.”

The rebel leader nodded. “It’s risky, but it’s probably our best shot.”

The rebel leader went to round up his men and they boarded the Imperial Shuttle to fly back down to retrieve their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes after:  
> The Last Of Us reference! Yay!  
> Tess said “I was jumped by these two assholes” and Joel replied “Are these two assholes still with us?”  
> I watched the last of us recently and it influenced the next chapter. And by quite a bit.
> 
> Also, loads of credit to ja54591 for offering to, and actually following through with, proof-reading some of my work beforehand. Check out his page; he is a far better writer and a really cool guy all round:  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8366515/
> 
> Finally, huge apology for the upload time. Schedule timings are messed up:P  
> Anyway, I hope to add Chapter 3 very soon (I decided to write it out first because I was in the right mood.) so expect it by Tuesday latest.
> 
> Let me know what you think about it. Am I doing good or have I messed up something so badly that you want to throw your laptop/PC/phone into a garbage truck?  
> JA (My initials)


	3. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P3 - Down to One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine and Ezra execute their plan to rescue their friends from captivity... but, as always, things never go as planned...  
> And this time the consequences are more severe than they could've expected...
> 
> {Read notes @ beginning for some extra information that adds some context, but isn't needed!}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things you might need to know (but don't have to):
> 
> \- The 4th brother lost his arm to Ezra in Breakdown. He also should've died at the end of Breakdown, but didn't. He is the king of bad pennies that always turn up when you least expect them. He also lost 4 of his fellow inquisitors to Ezra (albeit indirectly for 3 of them, who Maul actually killed, but the 4th Brother doesn't give a fuck about that. He wants revenge for the insult done to the inquisitors as well.)

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P3 – It goes wrong… again.

* * *

 

The shuttle descended through the atmosphere, sunlight glinting off the wings. A turbolaser on top of the control tower tracked them as they descended towards the desert facility, an easy target if their ploy were to be discovered.

One of the rebels keyed the microphone as Sabine gently guided the ship down.

“This is Lambda-class shuttle 228715, requesting permission to land.”

“Shuttle 228715, state your purpose for landing,” an officer in the control tower responded, watching as it drifted down.

“Transfer of prisoner Ezra Bridger to secure facility, awaiting further transportation elsewhere. Transmitting security code now.”

There was a brief pause, then the officer came back. “Shuttle, you are cleared for landing.”

The shuttle flew in for landing, side ‘wings’ folding up to its main one as it approached the landing pad out over a massive crater in the ground, just like the one they’d encountered on the base where the others had been captured.

“Here we are,” Sabine said under her breath as it touched down with a slight thump, the landing gears sending dust billowing out from underneath it. She got up and clambered her way through the ship to stand ready by the door, which opened with a hiss.

The deck officer walked up, escorted by 2 troopers. The darkness inside coupled with the bright light outside prevented him from seeing the interior of the craft properly.

“Hello?” he called after several seconds of waiting.

“Ladies first,” gestured Ezra.

“Lady?” Sabine snorted as she slapped her helmet onto her head. “You must be thinking of someone else!”

She slid down the ramp, firing as she went. The 3 Imperials dropped in a second and she unslung her rocket launcher, taking careful aim at the tower. She peered through the sights, then fired.

“Great shot!” yelled one of the rebels as they charged out. The shot had impacted the tower along its exposed power line, one of its weakest points. The sudden charge overloaded all the electronics in the tower, causing the windows on each floor to burst out by the sudden destruction of all the electrical devices in the building. The turbolaser turret blew off and tumbled into the void.

“Nice work Sabine!” exclaimed Ezra as he ran, clapping her on the shoulder. She grinned at the explosion that occurred and took a moment to admire the sunlight reflecting off the falling glass shards, before re-joining the rebel assault.

The rebels had made it halfway to the base when some Stormtroopers rushed out of the building, firing at them. They were good too, cutting down rebels within seconds of each other.

“Take cover!” the rebel leader screamed as he dived behind a pile of crates that Ezra and Sabine were already sheltering behind. Several Stormtroopers identified him as the leader and began suppressing him with an unending barrage of lasers.

The new Stormtroopers pushed up in a leapfrog fashion, using cover to a great advantage. Sabine and Ezra got pinned behind the crates, accurate blaster fire impacting the very edges of their cover and occasionally sending flecks of molten metal flying their way. Sabine tried to lean out to shoot, but she rapidly withdrew her hand after a pair of lasers scorched the surface of the crate inches from her hand. Ezra dodged from one box to another and tossed a grenade, which exploded with a whoomph. The shockwave sent a single Stormtrooper skidding along to the edge of the walkway; the others had already moved out of range.

“Hold on!” another one of them yelled as he dived over and grabbed the hand of the falling Stormtrooper. “I need some covering fire!”

Several nearby ones complied, forming a shooting semi-circle as they protected their friend as he dragged the fallen one up and then back to their lines.

At the same time a grenade launcher was brought up, a round was fired and several rebels were sent flying off the edge. It was powerful enough that they felt the shockwave even from where they were located further back.

“Grenade Launcher!” Sabine yelled at him.

“Forget it!” he yelled back. “AT-AT incoming!”

She looked around the corner and saw what he was looking at. An AT-AT had begun moving from its docking port, dozens of Stormtroopers swarming towards them, squads entering through the hanger doors as they were mobilised to help capture or kill them.

She realised with a shock that they were far outmatched now. She tried to get an accurate count of the reinforcements, but several shots skimmed her helmet, shortly followed by one impacting the forehead, forcing her to pull back.

They were still quite a way away though. They still had time to get out.

“Sabine, we need to go,” Ezra looked at her sadly. She nodded, thankful that the helmet hid her face. She knew that he didn’t want to leave the others just as much as she did, but they had to.

“FALL BACK!”

The surviving rebels broke and fled at the same time. They didn’t make it far. Accurate fire decimated their ranks. 

Sabine spun to fire at the enemy as she ran, but then froze, feet lifting off the floor slightly. Her guns dropped from her fingers and she flew back towards the enemy. Ezra turned in time to see the red blade emerge from her back.

* * *

 

“Sabine…”

He couldn’t breathe. His vision narrowed and his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

“Good evening, Miss Wren,” the Fourth Brother whispered to her. “How wonderful it is to see you again.”

He pulled her off the lightsaber with excruciating slowness, metal left arm holding her up by the throat. He deactivated his lightsaber and pulled her helmet off, revelling in the strangled gasp of pain she gave.

“Ahh, just as ravishing as I remember,” he said, dropping the helmet, and gently stroking her cheek.

He looked past to see Ezra standing there, horrified. His lightsaber was already out, green blade shining.

“But you’re not the reason I’m here,” he snarled as he tossed her aside. Sabine hit the ground with a thump and a clack of armour and lay there, unmoving.

“You’ll pay for that,” Ezra shouted at him, swinging his lightsaber menacingly as he averted his eyes from her motionless form.

The 4th Brother cackled as his metal arm split and he grabbed his lightsabers. 3 red blades glowed angrily, buzzing as though warning him of what was coming. “Come and get me.”

Ezra charged forward with a yell, slamming his lightsaber down with a curse. The 4th Brother blocked with 2 blades and stabbed with his third, forcing Ezra to leap back.

“Just like your little Mandalorian friends here, weak and undisciplined,” the Inquisitor snarled, giving Sabine a sharp kick.

Ezra’s blood curdled at the cry of pain she gave. “Don’t touch her!” he snarled, glaring at his opponent.

The Inquisitor laughed. “I’ll do much worse than that. All because of you.”

Ezra parried the first blow that came at him and dodged the second. The third clipped his side, burning his skin. He growled and tried to step back, but the inquisitor was on him in a second, kicking Ezra in the chest and sending him sprawling. He got back up and force-pushed the 4th Brother away, however he simply rolled and then launched himself forward, cannoning into Ezra and slamming him onto his back, winding him.

“As I said, weak,” the 4th Brother spat. “Now you will pay for what you did to me.”

There was a series of clicks as the Stormtroopers activated their weapons. The Inquisitor looked up, startled, as the Stormtroopers fired.

At the Inquisitor.

* * *

 

The Inquisitor didn’t have any of his lightsabers ready to block the shots, and was struck multiple times in the head before he staggered over to the side of the bridge and tumbled off the edge, arms extended as though he could slow himself down.

Ezra ignored him and the Stormtroopers as he scrambled over to Sabine, sweaty hands slipping on the metal floor. She was lying on her side, barely conscious, but rolled over when he said her name.

“Ezra…” she said as he knelt beside her. He grasped her hand. “It hurts…”

Their gazes met and he could see the fear in her brown eyes as she struggled to stop it showing on her pale face.

“I know, I know,” he released her hands to press his to the injury and she gasped. She grabbed his arm as he pressed, doing his best to stop the loss of blood. “I’m sorry.”

“Ezra…” she did her best to avoid crying out in pain. The blood-stained fingers dug into his skin and more continued to seep from the cracks between his fingers. Several important blood vessels must’ve been cut and he desperately tried to apply more pressure, as though it could stop the bleeding, and stop her from dying in front of him.

“I know Sabine. I know it hurts,” he tried to avoid trembling at the groan she made.

“I’m scared…” she whispered.

He shook his head frantically, “you’re going to be OK, you’re going to be OK.”

He didn’t know whether that was more for his benefit or hers.

A medic Stormtrooper pushed his hands aside and began working on her injury. A blaster was put to his head.

“Don’t move. Let him work,” a voice said.

Ezra clasped Sabine’s hand in both of his as the medic worked frantically. Occasionally she gave a gasp of pain as something was sewn shut or cut and Ezra would comfort her as best as he could, watching as she got weaker and weaker with every drop of blood that was lost.

Eventually the medic pulled back and sighed.

“How is she?” Ezra demanded to know. To his surprise, the Medic replied directly to him instead of his commanding officer.

“It’s not good. She has severe internal trauma and some bleeding, even though the lightsaber cauterised most of the wound. I’ve done what I can, but she won’t make it without the care of medical experts and a lot of surgery,” The Medic rubbed his eyes and shook his head as he put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Sabine had passed out by now and Ezra shuddered as he struggled to maintain focus. His eyes were constantly dragged back to her pale face as he listened, looking at her as though he’d never see her again.

“There are some advanced medical supplies on the medical frigate… if I can…”

“No,” the medic cut him off. “She has an hour, two at most. She’ll have to stay with us.”

“What!? But you’re Imperials! I can’t do that!”

The Stormtrooper behind him placed his blaster and helmet down on the ground and crouched beside him.

“Kid,” he began. “I owe you my life. Twice.”

Ezra glanced at him, confused and scared.

“First time was on the Interdictor cruiser. You told me that I shouldn’t worry because you wouldn’t kill us.”

The commander placed a hand on Ezra’s far shoulder as he gazed at Sabine and turned him so that their eyes met again.

“I swear to you on my life and the lives of my men that I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and alive. The men in my battalion are loyal to me. They won’t talk.”

“But I can’t leave her here…” Ezra mumbled as he looked back, voice hoarse. He put Sabine’s hand by her side and let it go, looking at the blood that stained the armour. “I promised I’d stay with her.”

“I’ve seen wounds like this before,” said Kallus. “The medic’s right. She has to stay here.”

Ezra hadn’t heard or seen him coming, he was so focused on Sabine. He spun his head round over his shoulder to see Kallus standing remorsefully behind him.

“I’ll do what I can to keep her safe for as long as possible,” Kallus promised.

“But I can’t leave her!”

The AT-AT approached, the supporting Stormtroopers more relaxed now that there was no more shooting.

“If she goes with you, she will die!” Kallus almost snapped at him.

“I promised her though. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her!” Ezra yelled tearfully. “I promised!”

 “Just GO already! If they find out we’ve been helping you, every man in this battalion will die and the rebels will lose the information I provide,” Kallus said, looking more panicked as the non-allied Stormtroopers marched their way closer.

Ezra hesitated, then looked at the encroaching Imperials. There were too many, and if he didn’t go, then all of their new-found allies would die and he would either die with Sabine or they’d both be tortured for information, then killed.

“Kid, go now!” yelled Kallus in desperation, eyes flicking between him and the new Imperials.

Ezra turned to run but a voice stopped him.

“Ezra… please don’t go…” croaked Sabine. He looked back to see her staring at him, eyes wide, arm outstretched towards him. He could see the fear in her eyes as they pleaded with him to not go.

He looked away and ran.

* * *

 

He made it back to the Ghost, having flown the shuttle away, and stumbled indoors. A quick glance at the wall in Sabine’s room through the open door let him see the painting. It caused something to snap within him. He broke down and began crying, collapsed in the corridor.

_You promised her that you’d always be with her,_ it mocked. _That you’d never abandon her like others have done before. You were supposed to be ‘Unbreakable’ yet you ran and abandoned her. You broke at the first sign of trouble._

He dragged himself to his room and grabbed a drink from where he knew Zeb kept a stash, then staggered to the living room and downed some of it, ignoring the burn in his throat.

_“Ezra… please don’t go…”_ Sabine’s voice echoed in his head. He’d felt the fear that she’d felt flow through him as he left her and it stung him. She’d been terrified and in extreme pain, but he’d run away like a coward.

He continued to drink, then hurled the bottle at the far wall, where it shattered.

“I’m sorry Sabine,” he managed to whisper, as though it could change anything.

The walls that were his audience ignored him as he cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get loads of abuse...  
> 1 - Ezra had no medical supplies to treat Sabine with so all he could really do was apply pressure.  
> 2 - The 4th Brother did go out kind of lamely. Triumphant return pending approval by the community.  
> 3 - Surprise Kallus! Kallus would be there to help the rebels, so that's why he was at the tower with the Stormtroopers.  
> 4 - Ex-machina good Stormtroopers DO have an impact (esp. later) other than being a simple plot tool for this scene.  
> 5 - I am a horrible person for making Ezra leave Sabine even though she begged him to stay.  
> 6 - No one knows what Sabine would do in a situation where she is basically dying in extreme pain. Blame any poor writing about it, perceived or real, on that fact.  
> 7 - I *almost* (with extra emphasis on almost) broke my promise and uploaded it on Wednesday, because I'm sick and stayed at a friend's house (with no wifi) waiting for a delivery (he was on holiday) for several hours until 10:30 GMT (because I live in England), then had to come back when the order was readjusted to Wednesday. 11:40 is still Tuesday (please no abuse).
> 
> If you felt very sad during this scene, blame the game “The Last of Us” because that influenced the interaction quite a bit.
> 
> Special thanks to ja5365 for checking my work even though he had no obligation to do so and so you should look at his work. It had a big influence on some of my interactions. He was very honest in his analysis and reigned in some of my more outlandish ideas (including inappropriate jokes and there being enough time for Ezra to chat with Kallus and the Stormtrooper commander about Ezra sparing the commander the second time and the base having a small-scale cloning machine so that Kallus could reassure Ezra that Sabine would't even have too much of a scar, should she survive.). Link to his account below.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8366515/
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and hope you'll stick around for the next one!


	4. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P4 - Rescue mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the mission to rescue the others fails (disastrously), Ezra must attempt to rescue the rest of his crew (again). He boards as Star Destroyer to rescue Hera and Chopper, but has to learn how to dock first (sigh). Hopefully adds a little light-heartedness as the series continues to get darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lightheartedness FTW.  
> Trust me, it is needed. Just wait for parts 6, 7 and 8... *Evil laugh*  
> I am a bastard ;)  
> Enjoy!

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P4 – Rescue Mission

* * *

 

 

Ezra came around slowly to a persistent beeping sound. The ship was otherwise silent, dust motes drifting around the ship in the light that was shining through the cockpit glass.

Ezra groaned as his head was pounded by a fierce headache. He pushed himself up, hit the button and Fulcrum’s symbol came up from the table.

“Spectre Team,” he started. “Ezra. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”

Ezra hung his head and rubbed his eyes; he was still furious with himself and now was somewhat hungover, in an even worse position to fight than before.

“I’ve located 2 of your crew, on the Star Destroyer _Vengeance_. They are being transferred to Xeno genetics research lab in the core worlds right now. I have already alerted another rebel group and they are making their move to rescue them now. If you hurry, you might still catch them. Coordinates attached. Fulcrum out.”

Ezra sighed and got up. After several minutes of fruitless searching, he gave up looking for Hera’s pilot manual and keyed in the transmitted coordinates, bracing himself as it shot off towards the edge of the system. Hera had instructed them all in usage of the autopilot, just in case something happened to her, Sabine or Kanan, as Zeb and Ezra couldn’t fly the Ghost.

* * *

 

There was a boarding process underway, he realized as he approached. 2 CR90 corvettes had docked to the Star Destroyer, which was somehow disabled.

 _There are no blast marks on any of the ships_ , Ezra noticed. _So the Destroyer had probably been disabled in some other way, probably with Fulcrum’s help. An Ion bomb in the engine room maybe._

“This is Spectre Six, coming in to support the rescue,” he broadcast to the rebel ships.

“Acknowledged Six, this is Striker One” came the reply after a few seconds. “The party we sent out is pinned down not too far from the cell block, so there might be quite a few Imperials on the way there that you’ll have to deal with. We’ve managed to take out the engines and weapons using ion bombs, and they aren’t coming back online without a shipyard, courtesy of agent Fulcrum.”

“On my way. And captain?”

“Yes?”

“How do I dock?” Ezra asked sheepishly.

There was a brief, disbelieving pause as the captain processed what Ezra had just asked.

“Plot the autopilot to line up with a docking port. Once it does that, make it hold position over the port and bring it in slowly. Then…”

The Ghost thumped into the side of the Star Destroyer and bounced back, the autopilot keeping it centred on the docking port.

“The key part of the process being SLOWLY,” the captain sighed.

“It’s harder than it looks, especially on your first time flying,” Ezra snapped back.

“First time? You mean...” the captain paused. “Don’t answer that. Just bring it in as slow as you can and activate the docking clamp. There should be a button somewhere there, a green one on the left of the pilot’s dashboard that says “docking”, if there aren’t any major changes to the ship.”

“Looking for it,” Ezra replied as he brought the ship back towards the airlock. The Ghost hit the airlock at an angle and it spun off over the top of the Star Destroyer.

 _What are you doing?_ Kallus wondered, watching from the bridge of the _Vengeance_. He stared at the Ghost as it spun a few times, then reversed-thrust and rocketed back towards the two rebel ships. _Are you trying to crash?_

“Striker Two to Spectre Six, do you mind NOT getting us killed?” the Captain of Striker Two snapped as the Ghost shot past the ship’s bridge, the forward guns just scraping the front of Striker Two at one point.

Ezra managed to stop the ship directly in front of Striker One, staring into the ship’s bridge. The rebel captain had a hand on his face and he was shaking his head. Ezra gave an apologetic half-smile as the captain looked back at him.

“Sorry.”

“It would be much preferred if we could avoid exploding into a giant mess,” the Captain of Striker One continued dryly. “It tends to go down badly with the head-sheds when we disable a Star Destroyer and then all die in an accident. Now look for the button, it should be on the left.”

Ezra leaned over and his hand hovered over a spot on the control panel.

“No, further left. Up. Down a bit. Left a tad.”

 _This is just agonising,_ the Captain thought, something Kallus was thinking at the exact same moment.

“Too far left. Not enough. Yes, around that area.”

Ezra slapped his hand down on a button that fitted the description and suddenly several objects took flight.

“No, that one deactivates the gravity. I recommend you deactivate it before you end up getting whacked by something.”

“You should’ve given me better instructions!”

“You see, what we’ve got here is a failure to communicate. You aren’t listening to me.”

Ezra hit the button again and the objects fell down, a couple with a loud crash.

“I hope whatever broke was just crockery and not the casing of a proton bomb,” the Captain noticed Ezra’s wince at the sound.

“How was I supposed to know what it did?”

“Because it says _Gravity_ on it.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then your commander is breaking a basic rebellion ship rule.

“Where’s this docking button then?” Ezra changed the subject, trying to avoid looking at the green button that clearly said _Gravity_.

The Captain sighed irritably. “Near the one you just pressed. And make sure it says _Docking_ instead of _Self Destruct_ or something.”

Ezra hunted around and spotted the button on the far-left side. He gave it a whack and a button lit up on the dashboard.

“Airlock ready. Now all you need to do is dock. Slowly.”

Ezra nodded as he got the autopilot to manoeuvre the ship into position ‘over’ the docking port.

“I know, slowly and without crashing into Striker Two.”

“Again,” Striker Two interjected.

He clumsily docked the Ghost and ran to the airlock, head still sore from the hangover. The door opened with a hiss and he ran through the airlock and down the corridor as soon as he was able, lightsaber drawn and ready.

* * *

 

“Stop right there!” a Stormtrooper yelled as he came around the corner. Ezra sent him and his buddy flying back the way they came with a force push and continued on through the warren of corridors and rooms, demolishing anyone that got in his way.

“Rebel boarding party, I’m almost there,” he told them through his commlink, swiping at a technician who jumped into a storage room.

“This is Striker One-One, negative on that,” came the terse reply. “We are cornered in a corridor by an E-WEB turret but we’ve got the Imperials tied up here. Grab your friends, now’s probably your best chance to get them out.”

“Okay. Thanks,” he clicked his comm off and changed direction.

The detention block was just ahead, four Stormtroopers standing outside the entrance, on high alert.

“Hey!” one of them yelled, aiming his blaster at him. Ezra pushed them away with the force and ran inside, shoving the unarmed technician away from the control panel. He quickly searched for recent transfers and found Hera and Chopper in adjourning cells close to the block entrance. He quickly opened them and ran down the corridor to see Hera climb out of the cell. She was slightly bruised, but otherwise fine, looking like she was going to try fight her way out, however futile it’d be.

“Ezra!” Hera exclaimed in surprise. “When did you get here?”

“Just arrived. I believe you needed a rescue?” he asked, trying to smile.

Hera saw through the façade instantly.

“What’s wrong?” Hera asked, stepping close to him and brushing the hair from his face. She sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

He turned around and walked back the way he came. “I’ll explain later.”

“I can’t believe Sabine was irresponsible enough to let you drink,” Hera mumbled. “No matter how upset you are.”

Ezra kept walked, but his hand tightened around his lightsaber hilt, something Hera noticed with dismay.

“Oh no…” she breathed as she put the 2 and 2 together. “What’s happened to her? Where is she?”

He paused before replying bitterly. “She was captured.”

“Oh.”

Ezra exited the corridor and slashed at the Stormtrooper who’d rushed up to confront them after he recovered. The armour shattered and melted and the body fell with a thump, blaster skidding across the floor towards Hera, who picked it up.

“Let’s go. You too Chop,” Ezra motioned for them to follow as he began running. They reached the ship with no incident, all the Stormtroopers having been sent to try to push out the rebels. Chopper grumbled about being considered secondary but was more than happy to follow Ezra back to the ship, wheels clicking across floor plates.

“Striker One-One, you can go now,” Ezra said into his comm as they arrived.

“Copy that. Got what you came for?” the rebel leader asked, voice slightly more strained than before.

“Yeah.”

Hera sat down and quickly piloted the Ghost away, parking it on an asteroid while the CR90s made good their escape. The Star Destroyer continued to tumble, helpless without engines. A pair of light frigates and its escorting TIE fighters dashed towards the Star Destroyer, ignoring the dusty asteroid field that they hid in.

She exited the bridge and went over to where Ezra was sitting, staring solemnly at a painting on the table, obviously Sabine’s handiwork.

“What’s that?” she asked as she sat down next to him, noting the fact that they were holding hands in the painting.

 “We were comforting each other before we went to rescue you,” he murmured. “And she made the painting of the two of us.”

Hera nodded and put an arm around him.

“It says ‘Unbreakable’ underneath,” he continued, voice barely audible.

“Just like the two of you,” Hera comforted, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Unbreakable.”

The message recorder beeped and Hera activated it, revealing Fulcrum’s symbol, accompanied by Kallus’s distorted voice.

“Kid, what were those stunts you were pulling when you were docking?”

“That might’ve been my first time piloting a ship,” Ezra responded.

“Right. Anyway, the Imperials have changed up their movement patterns. I’ve lost the location of Kanan, but I still have a lead on Zeb. He’s been taken to an orbital research facility called the Aurelius. He should be there for the next few rotations, so you can go and get him soon without too much pressure. He is being held in cell block B, cell 18,” Kallus said, somewhat annoyed; he was stuck on a disabled Star Destroyer after all, and would have no real excuse for monitoring the prisoner transfers now that the 2 on his ship were gone, making his job much harder.

“And Sabine?” asked Ezra.

Kallus sighed, the hologram and voice distorter jarring it a little. “Still working on that.”

“Thanks Fulcrum. Spectre 2, out,” Hera finished.

She turned to face Ezra.

“Let’s go get Zeb. As soon as we know where Sabine is, we’ll go for her,” Hera stated, pulling Ezra closer. He simply nodded and they walked over to the cockpit.

Chopper beeped and Hera gave him and exasperated look.

“Yes, we do have to get him Chopper. You might not like Zeb, but at least he doesn’t complain as much,” she scolded.

Chopper warbled in annoyance and threw his arms in the air.

“No, we are not going to paint his bed pink for when he comes back,” she walked into the cockpit and sat down at the helm. “Now plug in the co-ordinates to this station. We have friends to rescue.”

The Ghost jumped forward at lightspeed towards this station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cool Hand Luke reference: “You see, what we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.” Yes, I did edit the story so I could get that in, because all the references must be made!  
> It is reasonable to assume that Hera would've taught Ezra how to use the auto-pilot to some extent.  
> Who's next? Sabine, Zeb or Kanan? What do you guys think?  
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
>  


	5. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P5 - Zeb and Kanan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera, Chopper and Ezra head off on a mission to rescue Zeb from the top-secret Aurelius station, and find Kanan while they're there. The crew also discovers what happened with Sabine and Ezra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B. I feel like this chapter is sub-par compared to the normal ones I write. Let me know what you think of it (Ie: is it shite or acceptable?)  
> Don't worry! The next 3 chapters are all much better than this! (I know because I've already written the basics of them, but am still working on the drafts)  
> Also, I'm answering questions and reviews now too! I run this on both Archive of our own and Fanfiction, so I'll do them both in one section in the Chapter notes at the end.

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P5 – Zeb and Kanan

* * *

 

The Ghost dropped out of lightspeed and shot towards a gas giant. Its green mass filled most of the view screen, and Ezra couldn’t help but whistle in awe. The Aurelius station was a small white speck against it, looking improbably close to the titanic planet.

“ID cloak up… Sensor scrambler engaged… looks like we’re all set,” Hera announced as she worked. Ezra was sitting in the back of the cockpit, arms crossed and looking quite forlorn.

She knew he wasn’t telling her something, but they needed to extract Zeb as soon as possible; they didn’t know when the Empire would next move him.

“Ezra, get ready,” she ordered, flicking a couple of switches and deactivating the engines.

“So, why are you deactivating the power?” Ezra asked, confused and a bit concerned at the sudden lack of gravity. “

“The scramblers and ID masker are all very well, but they won’t mean anything if we can’t fool an Imperial scanner, which is what would probably happen if we tried while we approached,” she replied, double checking all systems to make sure they were completely offline. “We go in guns blazing, we vanish into a cloud of molten metal and atomized human and twi’lek before we get within a mile of it. If we power down, they won’t be able to detect our electromagnetic signature and we’ll be able to glide in completely undetected. The scramblers and ID masker, coupled with our proximity to the station, would prevent their sensors from distinguishing us from it, even once we power up for docking. Unless they look out of the window once we get close. Then we’d be vaporised.”

“Right, that sounds cheerful” Ezra was faintly disturbed by the high chance of detection and the sheer impossibility of getting in if detected en-route.

“Ezra, get going. I need you ready to jump in as soon as we dock.”

Ezra made his way to the airlock with a sigh, lightsaber drawn. He stood in front of it, trying to stay relaxed.

“Prepare for docking in 3… 2… 1…”

There was a rumble as the ship’s engines reactivated and the airlocks from the ship and station gently bumped against each other. The airlock hissed open and Ezra charged out with Chopper in tow. The 2 Stormtroopers patrolling nearby were cut down in quick succession and the station remained silent. They hadn’t been detected.

“Okay, stage one complete,” Ezra muttered to himself as he ran quietly towards the detention blocks. He tried to avoid most patrols, but occasionally came across them in his path.

_And another two bits of evidence for them to discover soon,_ he thought, somewhat disappointedly as he snuck away from the 2 Stormtrooper corpses, armour still smouldering from where it was cut.

Chopper bleeped in warning, and Ezra heard the alarms seconds afterwards.

“Screw the stealth,” he grumbled and he charged forward at the 4 Stormtroopers guarding the prison door. Two went down to his lightsaber, another blasted back by a force-push. The 4th flung Zeb’s Bo-rifle at him, then tackled him to the ground, where Ezra jabbed him in the throat and pushed him away. Chopper zapped the guard unconscious.

He opened cell 18 and Zeb charged out, only to stop when he saw Ezra.

“What?” Zeb started, confused.

“You’re welcome,” Ezra laughed as he tossed the Lasat’s Bo-rifle to him. “I have to save you AGAIN.”

“Quiet, kid,” Zeb snarled, pretending to be angry. In all honesty, he looked quite a bit worse for the wear, with lots of cuts and a torn left ear, but relieved to be free all the same.

“That’s not what you say to someone who just saved your life,” joked Ezra as he ran towards the command centre.

“Not this kriff again…” groaned Zeb. “It was bad enough when you stopped Kallus from stabbing me, but this is a bit too far. I thought you were supposed to be more mature.”

“I was, but only when Kanan and Hera are around.”

“Oh no. I guess you and Sabine had a wild time when we were out,” Zeb sighed. “I swear if you did anything to my bunk…”

He noticed Ezra hadn’t responded in any way, just kept on running.

“What’s happened kid?” Zeb asked. “Where’s Sabine?”

“She was captured,” Ezra replied shortly. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

They got ready to breach, Zeb and Ezra standing on either side of the door, and Chopper at the droid door lock.

“Hit it Chop,” Ezra ordered.

Chopper grumbled something about not even being given a ‘please’, but opened it so Zeb and Ezra could charge in.

“Inform high command that-” one of the troopers dropped before he could report the escape, a blast from the Bo-rifle impacting his helmet.

Ezra sent 2 troopers flying into a wall and Zeb fired 4 precise shots, each killing a technician.

“We have to find where Kanan is,” said Ezra, moving over to a console and beginning to search for the prisoner transfer files. “Got him!” he yelled after a minute.

“Where?”

“A shuttle heading for the Star Destroyer _Annihilator_ , pending transportation to Mustafar, by order of Lord Vader, for personal interrogation. It’s currently in sector… 11 H, moving towards the _Annihilator_.”

* * *

 

Ezra, Chopper and Zeb ran back to the Ghost and boarded, Hera blasting off as soon as the airlock was sealed. They shot to sector 11 H, where they found an Imperial shuttle flying off to a Star Destroyer in the distance.

“Imperial Shuttle, pull over or be destroyed,” Ordered Hera once they were close enough.

“Negative,” came the reply, enticing Ezra to shoot a warning shoot past it’s bow. The ship slowed down and stopped, letting them dock.

Hera looked at the scanners. “Better make it quick guys, that Star Destroyer is coming after us.”

Ezra stood in the airlock corridor, lightsaber ready but inactive. He’d given Chopper orders to shut off the lights in the craft as soon as they docked, and he’d turned the ones in the airlock off too, surrounding him in darkness.

There was a dull thump as the 2 airlocks slammed together and sealed.

“What happened to the lights?” one of the Stormtroopers yelled seconds after they’d docked.

“I don’t know,” another shouted back.

Ezra hit the button to open the airlock and he sensed all the troopers in the room stop moving to stare in the general direction of the airlock. He activated his lightsaber, casting a green light over everything in the room.

Ezra charged in, swinging his lightsaber. Stormtroopers fell like wheat before the scythe. There were only 8 of them, packed around the door, so he eliminated them in a few seconds and ran over to free Kanan.

“That was quick,” commented Kanan from where he was handcuffed in the corner, looking worse than Zeb, complete with bloody nose and loads of flowering bruises. “Although it took you a while to get here.”

“I’m a fast worker,” Ezra quipped as he unlocked the cuffs. “Tuesdays-Thursdays, Mondays cost extra. Don’t even ask what I’m charging for a Friday rescue.” He slapped Kanan on the shoulder. “Now let’s get you out of here.”

They jumped into the Ghost and blasted off as soon as the airlock closed. 

* * *

 

Hera met them in the living room, where they’d just opened a transmission to Fulcrum.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” reported Kallus.

“Let’s here the bad first,” said Hera.

“I have to tell you the good first,” sighed Kallus. “Sabine’s condition is now fully stable and she’s expected to make a full recovery.”

“Recovery from what?” Kanan demanded to know.

There was a pause, leaving the rebels listening to the crackle of the transmission and voice distorter.

“I guess the boy hasn’t told you exactly what happened when they came to rescue you,” he continued finally. “Before I go any further, I’d like to say that they kid had no choice over what happened. It was incredibly tough to do.”

The Ghost crew present cast suspicious looks at the boy sitting sadly on the end of the sofa.

“The bad news is, the Empire has demanded she be moved to a secure facility from here. I’ve done what I can to keep her here as long as possible, but my orders are being overruled. She is to be move to the Citadel prison facility in 2 days, when she is deemed fit enough to be tortured for information. And that’s with me calling in all my favours to keep her in the medical ward.”

Kanan and Hera stared at the hologram, shocked. The Citadel prison was used only for extreme cases. Chopper stared at Ezra.

“Don’t blame the boy for what happened. He had no other option. Fulcrum out.”

Hera turned to Ezra as soon as the hologram vanished.

“What happened? Exactly,” she commanded him to reply.

Ezra pulled his legs up to his chest, but didn’t say a word. Chopper beeped and Kanan joined in the staring too.

“Chopper said you must’ve left her there,” gasped Hera.

“We’d just begun to retreat,” Ezra began speaking. “And Sabine was grabbed by the 4th Brother… and he stabbed her with his lightsaber.”

The others looked on, aghast.

“We fought… and I only survived because the Stormtroopers we’d just been fighting killed the 4th Brother…”

“And why would they do that?” growled Zeb.

“They’re with us,” Ezra replied. “I crawled over to Sabine… and the blade had sliced through her abdomen. I did what I could and a Stormtrooper medic came over to operate on her. The commander came over with Kallus. He told me I’d spared his life twice and considered it to be his duty to help me now. And Kallus told me he’d do whatever he could to keep her alive and safe.”

“And you just trusted them,” Zeb snarled.

“I had no choice,” Ezra snapped back, glaring at the Lasat. “She would die if I tried to take her to a rebel ship… and there were dozens of Stormtroopers coming. Ones that weren’t allied with us, supported by an AT-AT.”

“And…” probed Hera, shooting Zeb and Kanan a warning look, telling them to stop being so harsh.

“And there was no where I could go. I tried everything, but nothing would’ve worked. If I had stayed behind and these guys were found to be helping me, they’d all die and me and Sabine would be prisoners. We all would be prisoners.”

Zeb scratched the back of his uncomfortably, now understanding what he’d had to go through. Kanan looked similarly uncomfortable

“So, they just let you leave?” asked Kanan quietly, getting a nod in response. “Was there really nothing else you could do?”

Ezra jumped up and shouted at him. “Do you think I wanted to go? She asked me to stay! I wanted to stay!” he’d begun crying, tears rolling down his cheeks. “If I didn’t we would all be prisoners, but I wished I could’ve stayed!”

“Ezra,” Zeb began, a lot kinder now. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“SHE BEGGED ME TO STAY!” he yelled in the Lasat’s face. “SHE BEGGED ME AND I STILL LEFT!”

He collapsed and Zeb propped him up against him, letting him cry into his fur.

“It’s ok kid… It’s ok.”

“No it’s not,” Ezra managed to say.

“We’ll get her back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was it? I really would like to know if this is acceptable or if it is actually bad, and I'm not just being hyper-critical of myself. Next 3 chapters are better, I promise!  
> I can never forget to thank ja54591 for helping me with writing and pointing out things in this series that just don't fit before I publish it. Check out his page. He is a great writer and has made several stories for rebels.  
> As always, showing your support through a Kudos, a subscription or comment goes a long way in convincing me to continue to write. Of course, criticism and/ or verbal abuse is also welcomed, because I can improve the stories using the feedback given.
> 
> Reviews and Questions (Fanfiction):
> 
> Guest (on Chpt 4) – Zeb next then Kanan then Sabine but I something has to happen to Kanan or Sabine  
> Me: Correct. I am evil, but something happens to Sabine. Sorry Sabine! I apologize for being evil, it is necessary for the plot!  
> Guest (Chpt 1) – C’est Bien.  
> Me: Merci Beaucoup. (Je parle un peu français.)  
> Darkness’s Blade : i can't believe it, someone actually got what i think Sabine would tell Ezra if she had feelings for him, the brother part made me cringe a bit cause im thinking he got fami-lyzoned which would suck but i seriously could see her saying this in season 4 or 5 i think Ezra and Sabine need to grow up a LITTLE bit more enough to where Ezra isn't THAT much a kid and he's like half a head taller than her with a wiser aura around him, he can still be Ezra just a little more grown up anyway good fic plz continue  
> Me: Yay! somone who agrees with me!  
> But wait! He mentioned cringe!  
> *Gaz from MW1*: Mission failed!  
> Me: This is set post S3, which is causing writing issues XD, but I will persist! This story will be complete! (So yeah, I’m continuing it.) Glad you like it! 
> 
> Reviews and Questions (Archive of Our Own):
> 
> Me: Kassey_Rey13, lots of comments throughout the series. Thank you for your continued support.


	6. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P6 - A nemesis returns... again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nemesis returns (no it isn't Maul) and he wants revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could make a chapter 5.5.  
> Apologies for the length, it was quickly made when I had some ideas for the nemiesis' return, inspired by Artiox vs the Spartans in Halo Wars 2 and Vader vs Rebels in Rogue One.

The rebels stood at the entrance of the chamber, hesitant to enter. They followed their orders, however, and paced inside, careful to maintain their spacing. They spread around the sides, carefully watching the door on the other side. They strained their eyes in the darkness, searching for any movement. Nothing. The place was as quite as the grave, occasionally punctuated by a crunch of stones as a rebel stepped on something.

“Huh?” one of the rebels was watching a small stone as it rolled up slightly towards them.

“What is it Izzy?” another asked, keeping his eyes on the shadows to the side.

There was a whisper.

“Hello love.”

Izzy vanished suddenly, tumbling off the edge into the pit. All the rebels looked to the pit as she screamed.

“Hello boys. How’s it going?”

A dark shape swept forward and tossed 3 rebels aside, arms crushing their windpipes as they went. Within seconds, he’d cleared out the rest of the rebels near him.

“Stop, you’re surrounded!” a squad leader yelled.

“I know, I know,” the 4th Brother smiled, one of his wild eyes concealed by makeshift bandages. The rebels had him cornered on one side of the pit, without an exit except through them. “Will you let me live?”

“You’re a monster!”

“Oh, come now, I’m shocked,” he mock-scolded, putting his hands behind his back. “I thought the good guys were supposed to be above name-calling. Now, answer my question. If I surrender, will you let me live?”

The squad leader hesitated, then nodded. “If you surrender, then we’ll let you live.”

Several rebels glanced at their leader in surprise, then looked back at the Inquisitor before them. 2 of them moved towards the 4th Brother, each with a set of powerful handcuffs.

“Hands where I can see them!” one of the rebels yelled, pointing his gun one-handed at the inquisitor as he advanced.

The 4th Brother grinned and placed his hands onto his head. The 2 rebels marched up and stood beside him, each getting ready to double-cuff his hands.

“What’s that?” the rebel on the left followed the metal as it curved around the inquisitor’s back.

“Oh, silly me,” the 4th Brother looked at the Captain, eyes grinning even though his mouth wasn’t. “I forgot about that one.”

He swung his second left hand around to grab the rebel on the right by the neck, smashing into the other one’s head on the way. He swung the rebel around to block the firing lines of the others as the one with the shattered skull collapsed.

The 4th Brother tutted and shook his head, revealing dark red burns across what little of his head was uncovered.

“Come on now, Captain. I hoped you would be smarter than to ask me to surrender.”

The 4th Brother dropped the rebel in the pit, and suddenly 3 glistening blades of red lit up the chamber.

“However, you can die knowing that I wouldn’t have extended the same courtesy to you.”

He swung 2 of his arms, sending the blades spinning around the sides of the cavern and back into his hands. 14 headless corpses dropped to the floor or tumbled into the pit.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” The only surviving rebel yelled as he charged, thermal detonator in hand.

The 4th Brother tossed him into the pit, and listened to the string of curses get cut off by an explosion.

“So uncivilised,” the 4th Brother muttered as he left the chamber.

3 rebels in the corridor saw the red glow and began to run.

* * *

“ROMERO ACTUAL! WE NEED EVAC!  THIS IS ROMERO 5-5, REQUESTING EVAC RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!” it was just a scout, not a team leader or the Captain, who was on the line. His voice was ragged and raw, and he was gasping for breath.

“What is it?” Admiral Falkner demanded from his cruiser.

“WE ENCOUNTERED AN INQUISITOR! HE KILLED THE RECON TEAM AND- “

The transmission was cut off by a whirring sound and the hiss of a blade slicing through flesh.

“Dispatch transports right away!” he ordered. 3 LAATs left the cruiser minutes later, shooting down towards the planet.

* * *

The LAATs swept low over the ocean towards the cliff-side cave, engines roaring in the golden glow of sunset.  


“Scout team, come in. Romero 5-5, are you there?” the wing commander asked. “This is Renegade Leader, calling the Vanguard team. Is anyone there?”

Silence greeted them.

They slowed down as they got close to the cave, hovering just outside the small outcrop of rock just at the entrance.

“Do you see anything?” asked Renegade Two.

“Negative,” the wing commander replied.

Renegade Leader swung around and its doors opened, ready to expunge its cargo of rebels.

“Look out!” The cry came too late and a body was flung through the open doors and out the other side, taking most of the rebels with them.

“PULL UP! PULL UP!” the co-pilot screamed as a figure emerged from the cave, brandishing 3 Lightsabers. One of them shot out of his hand to slice straight through Three, another to kill the pilot / wing commander with a swift throw.

The third LAAT, Renegade Two, banked off, but stopped suddenly, flinging its passengers against the closed left door.

“No, no, no, no, no, we can’t have anyone in my transport,” the 4th Brother smiled as he turned the ship over to the other side and shook out all the rebels in the transport area. The second one detonated mid-air and the now pilot-less Leader spun out of control, sinking slowly but gaining speed. It crunched against the uncaring cliff face, cutting off the co-pilot’s terrified screams as it also exploded.

The 4th Brother pulled the remaining LAAT back with the force, looking more like he was gesturing to the sunset than pulling 2 more rebels to their doom. He casually turned it upside-down over the rock ledge.

“Get out,” he ordered, and the rebels hurriedly complied.

He sliced the heads off both with a lightsaber and rotated the ship so that he could climb in, ignoring the bodies that tumbled off the cliff, minus their heads.

 _Now this is going to be fun,_ he smirked to himself as he left atmosphere, heading towards the rebel ship in orbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you guys think? Are you glad the 4th Brother makes a return? Are you screaming in rage that he survived a huge fall after getting shot in the head? Let me know in the comments!  
> I enjoyed his return, personally. He is one of my favorite custom characters (out of ALL the characters I've made, even in the stories I've written, but never published.) He is a blend of different personalities and styles that I just really enjoy writing about.  
> I apologise to all who thought Sabine's rescue was part 6. It was going to be, but I can't have a chapter 5.5, so I'll have to settle for 6 and push everything else back a chapter.  
> As usual, Kudos to ja54591 on fanfiction (also known as The Salty Stormtrooper over on tumblr) for checking all of my work to see where I've gone wrong and what I needed to correct.  
> Thanks to everyone who's been following my series and showing their support! It does mean a lot when someone lets me know they like it.  
> "So uncivilised" - Obi Wan Kenobi for the win! 
> 
> Questions and answers (or just comment replies) from both Fanfiction and Archive of our own.  
> Q&A - Fanfiction:
> 
> Guest - Dammnn... Plz continue  
> Me: Oh I will. I've invested loads of time and effort into this. I don't want to see it go to waste. I don't want to leave people hanging either, so I can't make myself just drop it when people want it to go on.
> 
> Guest - Dont worry so much - the chapter is amazing :)  
> Me: Thanks :). I think I'm very self critical (I'm not just saying that. I once marked a writing piece for my A-levela as an average and everyone else marked it as really freakin good), and the first draft of this resonated a bit too strongly with what my writing was like in Breakdown, which is something I'd like to leave behind. Anyway, thanks!
> 
> Guest - Have an ezra and Sabine moment  
> Me: Aye, one Ezra and Sabine moment, coming up in... Chapter 7. Don't get your hopes up for a positive emotional re-union though. He did leave her with the Imperials though. 
> 
> exploderz15 - Awesome story. It was a must for me to follow/favorite this. Please continue to update as both you and your story are awesome!!! And I am not just saying that. I mean it.  
> Me: I have genuinely never had someone respond like this to my stories. Thanks! I'm glad you enjoy it! That's the main reason I started writing on here, so people can read enjoyable stories.
> 
> No Archive of our Own comments :(


	7. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P7 - The Citadel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew launch their rescue mission to the planet Lola Sayu, to raid the Citadel Prison Facility and recover Sabine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologise for any unintentional evilness that may be witnessed during this chapter. Enjoy!  
> Q&A at the bottom

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P7 – The Citadel

* * *

 

It’d been almost a week since Sabine had been released from medical care and sent to the Citadel, her transport shuttle and escort taking a random route there, preventing the crew from attempting a boarding action to rescue her. They didn’t know when she arrived, or even if she had arrived, and the Star Destroyers in orbit stopped them from landing on Lola Sayu to scout out the prison. The thick, sooty clouds prevented an orbital reconnaissance, and, even though they’d gotten substantial forces from the rebels within the Belderone sector, it wasn’t enough to directly challenge the Empire, nor was it manoeuvrable enough to run the blockade.

“How long’s it been?” asked Hera quietly, eyes following a Star Destroyer as it passed over the exposed mantle, a small speck against an ocean of glowing magma.

“I don’t know,” Kanan replied from the co-pilot’s seat. The planet held a fair amount of history for him; although he’d never been there personally, he knew a lot about it. All Jedi did. It was designed to hold, and break, Jedi, and had been used by the Separatists for this very purpose during the clone wars. The planet had been split nearly in half by some previous, devastating event that was either never recorded, or had been lost to time, leaving the mantel exposed and the planet surrounded by debris.

They’d each been watching the planet for what felt like hours, looking at the missing part that exposed the molten mantle in the centre, surrounded by charred asteroids. The sulphurous nature of the planet itself meant that any prolonged time spent on the surface would be toxic.

“Let’s check on Ezra,” she said, getting up and walking to the common room, Kanan following suit

Ezra paced the deck in impatience, hands behind his back.

“How much longer?” he demanded to know.

“Ezra, calm down. He’ll contact us when he’s ready,” Hera replied for what felt like the hundredth time.

Ezra flung himself down onto the bench and waited for Fulcrum to contact them, arms crossed.

“Relax kid,” Zeb said. “You’ll tire yourself out and then we’d have to leave you when we do go.”

“It’s my fault she’s down there.”

“Ezra,” Kanan started. “Remember what I taught you.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Don’t let your feelings control your actions and all’. But I left her there. I… I…”

Kanan put a hand on his shoulder. When Ezra had been busy rescuing them, he had no time to think about what’d happened, but he began to stress about it more and more as the number of task he could do to distract him rapidly declined.

“What’s done is done. Exhausting yourself won’t help her,” Kanan squeezed Ezra’s shoulder slightly, getting a nod and a huff of frustration in response. Ezra’s hands were clenched into fists in frustration.

“Kanan’s right kid,” continued Zeb. “You’ll tire yourself out and then when we go to rescue her you won’t be able to fight.”

Ezra breathed out slowly. “I’ll go get some sleep then.”

He made his way to his room and hurled himself onto his bunk.

“All this worrying isn’t good for him,” Hera sighed.

“Kid’s gonna to drive himself crazy like this,” agreed Zeb. “It would’ve been bad enough if she’d been captured anyway, but with this…”

Kanan shook his head.

“I hope Fulcrum contacts us soon, before Ezra goes and attacks the prison himself.”

 

Several hours later, a slight beep indicated a message had arrived, origin unknown. Hera tapped a button and a simple text message popped up, formed of only 3 words and a series of numbers.

_She is in. 2187._

“I guess that answers our question,” muttered Hera as she got up and marched to the cockpit. Ezra charged out of his room and hopped on the front gun at the sound of the increased activity, guessing what it meant instantly.

Hera keyed the microphone.

“All flights, we have confirmation. Execute action plan 3,” she spoke confidently.

All around the Ghost, rebel ships emerged from the asteroids they were hiding behind. 2 CR90s peeled off from where they had been stationed behind a planetoid, 3 A-Wings detaching from each one to escort the ships. A Nebulon B-2 hospital frigate warped into the space behind the asteroid field, while several more CR90s and 2 light assault frigates warped out to the ‘left’ of the Ghost, acting as a distraction for the Star Destroyers. 2 more CR90s and an escort of X-Wings hyperspaced in as close as possible to the Empire’s space station. The CR90s unleashed a devastating barrage of fire at the TIE fighters that had just begun launching, while the X-Wings struck at the shield generator with proton torpedoes, followed by Ion torpedoes.

2 of the 3 blockade Star Destroyers peeled off to attack the main distraction, while the third rushed to help the space station, leaving the Ghost and its escort free to charge down into the atmosphere of Lola Sayu.

“Striker One, Striker Two, take up assault positions,” ordered Hera as they burst through the thick cloud layer and pulled up sharply, skimming across the top of one of the many lava rivers that crisscrossed the surface of the hellish planet. Smoke plumes billowed into the sooty-black cloud layer that trapped all the light trying to get through from the star it orbited.

“Copy Command One, Strikers taking position,” Striker One replied as both CR90s accelerated slightly ahead of the main attack group, weapons charged.

In the distance, the tower of the Citadel prison stuck up out of the jagged landscape, a straight line pointing skywards in sharp contrast to the twisted stone and scorched earth.

“Striker One, beginning my attack run,” stated Striker One as it accelerated much faster than the others, shooting towards the metallic tower sticking up from the rocks.

Striker One swept over the citadel far ahead of the others, tracked by the base’s defence turrets, which began firing in earnest at its disappearing form, heavy soot and ash clogging their scanners. Most of the shots went wild, but a few were close to hitting Striker One.

“Striker Two to escorts, marking targets now,” Striker Two marked targets for the escort, who would destroy the sparser outlying turrets and then attack any Imperial fighters while Striker Two forcibly removed the threat of the inner turrets and covered the 2 attack teams. They lifted up from their precarious low position over the lava and then dived towards the base.

“Command One, beginning my assault on the Citadel command room,” reported Hera. Ezra on the front gun began firing at the control centre as they approached, one of many laser streams that flickered towards the citadel.

Multiple explosions blossomed at various points across the compound as the defence guns exploded, while the Citadel’s C&C centre exploded in a ball of flame. Glistening glass fell down towards the fires that seemed to suit the volcanic landscape surrounding the tower.

Striker One came shooting back “Command One, Striker One is performing a hard drop-off,” the Captain grunted as the ship slammed into the ground, skidding on its gears at an alarming speed while rebels leaped out and charged towards the main entrance, which Striker Two had thoughtfully blasted open.

“Striker One, that was a bit too hard,” Hera responded as the CR90 only just managed to clear the compound wall as it took off again. She guided the Ghost down. “Spectre 6, I need you to stay on the gun while 1 and 4 get our VIP.”

The complaint came instantly. “But-”

“Kanan needs to lead the assault team because he is most familiar with this place,” Hera replied, pulling the Ghost up as soon as Kanan and Zeb jumped off. “Zeb can carry Sabine out if necessary, but I need someone on the guns aside from Chopper.”

Ezra didn’t argue with that.

* * *

 

Zeb and Kanan charged their way through the prison, following a map stolen from Imperial archives. With the command centre taken out, they didn’t have to worry about traps.

 _Or at least not as much,_ Zeb reminded himself as they ran. There had been a trap which electrified the floor that didn’t require command activation and caught 3 of their group off-guard.

“Just around the next corner!” Kanan exclaimed as he ran, holomap in hand. The few Stormtroopers they’d encountered had been confused by the lack of alarms and instructions from command, but they put up enough of a fight to whittle down the group by a few rebels.

“Incoming!” one of the guarding Stormtroopers yelled as they turned the corner into the high-security zone.

Zeb grunted as a blaster bolt whizzed past his ear, aiming down his rifle at the troopers. Each dull bang and kick into his shoulder represented another dead Stormtrooper. 4 thumps, 4 blood-spattered white uniforms fell to the floor.

“Cell 2187,” Kanan stated as they ran to the cell. “It’d better be the right one.”

The door opened with a hiss, to reveal 2 medical orderlies crouched over an unconscious Sabine. Zeb let out a growl and swiped the medics aside with a single, powerful backhand.

“What have they done?” he muttered in horror as he checked her quickly. Her breathing was ragged, right arm clearly broken and had just been set, as well as all her fingers. What little skin that wasn’t hidden by the jumpsuit was badly bruised and had an unusual curling tattoo pattern, something like he’d never seen before.

 _Not tattoos,_ he realised with a shock. _Cuts. The bastards have been using her as an easel for perfecting their cutting styles._

He gently picked her up in his arms, not that it would’ve mattered to her. She was completely dead to the world, undoubtedly exhausted by the torture. Blood stained her black prisoner jumpsuit and dried blood was encrusted on the floor and walls of the cell, a dark red against the charcoal-black floor.

“Spectre Two, this is Spectre One, VIP in tow. We are on our way out,” Kanan reported to Hera as they began running back, following the same route as before.

They met no more resistance on the way back, and charged out of the torn metal door. Fighters buzzed around like angry bees, the TIE fighters at a natural advantage due to their dark-grey paint blending in with the sky, while the white and red rebel ships stuck out like sore thumbs. A TIE was hit and spiraled into the lava, sending glowing molten rock splashing up, licking at the bottom of the Ghost as it swept over them.

“Launcher!” one of the rebels screamed as a TIE fighter dived at them. A rebel blind-fired up at the TIE, forcing it to maneuver off its attack course.

Striker One landed as soon as they were spotted, ramp already extended. Several TIEs immediately spotted the landing and began firing, green lasers splashing off the shields harmlessly as the rebels streamed onto the ship.

“Get her to the medical frigate!” yelled Zeb as Sabine was taken off him by 3 medics. The ship rumbled and roared as they accelerated, joining the other ships that took part in the raid. The TIEs hovered around the citadel, temporarily confused by the sudden disappearance of the rebel ships as they vanished into the thick cloud cover.

There was a crackle of comms and Ezra’s voice came over.

“How is she?” he demanded to know.

“She’ll live,” Zeb growled, bracing himself in a chair. “Focus on protecting the Ghost.”

The Ghost, the Strikers, and their fighter escort all rocketed out of the atmosphere, trailing soot and ash. The Star Destroyers were all making their way back to the planet, having forced the rebels to leave. The wrecks of 2 CR90s tumbled, dead in space, while the ship’s scanners flagged several destroyed rebel fighters amongst the Imperial ones. The stars winked and glistened at them, a sudden moment of serenity amongst the chaos

“All ships, jump out now!” Hera ordered, and the remaining rebel craft vanished into hyperspace, leaving the base commander struggling to think of a way to survive the punishment that was sure to come for losing an important prisoner.

* * *

 

Zeb glanced at Kanan and their eyes met for a second, each seeing their own feelings reflected back at them, literally and metaphorically (for Kanan). They were both horrified by what had happened to Sabine, but did their best to maintain a straight face as they exited hyperspace and docked with the waiting Nebulon B-2. The remaining craft drifted around in a loose defensive formation, watching for Imperial pursuit.

“We should…” Zeb started, but he was brushed put of the way by the 3 medics wheeling Sabine to the frigate’s medical ward on a stretcher, running like there was no tomorrow.

Kanan and Zeb followed suit, until they reached the medical ward, where they were directed to sit in a viewing room with one-way glass looking into the room where Sabine was now being scanned by several rebel doctors. There were several empty seats and minimal lighting, with the more powerful light in the scanning room casting long shadows against the back wall.

“Hera, when can you get over here?” Kanan inquired into his commlink.

“Not very soon. Admiral Falkner had to leave on an urgent mission an hour ago, so I’ve got to command the fleet for now. It’ll take a while. I sent Ezra over though.”

“Is that the best idea? Sabine is in pretty bad shape.”

“If I kept him in here any longer, he’d have tried to hijack the Ghost and fly it over. Besides, he’ll have to see her at some point.”

Kanan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Copy that. We’ll be here.”

Kanan turned his attention to what was going on inside the room, watching through the one-way glass as Sabine lay unconscious on a medical bed, being scanned by the medics. Zeb sat on a chair, watching sadly as the doctors examined what could’ve just as easily been a lifeless corpse on the morgue slab.

 _She’s so pale,_ Zeb thought worriedly. _And her skin… what have they done to her skin?_

The hideously beautiful, swirling cuts danced on her skin. Thin, dark red lines that could’ve been drawn on a canvas. They stood out against the black-and-blue bruises, trailing down her entire arm and leg, as far as he could see, which was most of her arm, as that wasn’t covered by the hospital gown. It was a reasonable guess that her other side hadn’t fared any better.

Sabine stirred and all of the doctors froze, staring at her. Her eyes opened, but she remained still. He didn’t need to be a Jedi to see the carefully-concealed panic in her as she looked around.

“Hello?”

It came from Sabine, weirdly enough.

“I know someone’s there.”

 _She can’t see_ , he realised with shock. Kanan leaned back and crossed his arms, so he must’ve realised it too.

“She isn’t supposed to be awake yet,” one of the medics hissed to another. Sabine turned to look at him, or in his general direction at least.

“Why not? Where am I?” she was visibly more agitated, glancing around in the direction of any noise that was made.

The chief doctor stepped up and spoke gently to her.

“You’re on the rebel hospital frigate Hermes, in medical ward 7. We were just checking to see what they did to you in the Citadel, and seeing what we can do to help.”

“I could probably give you a fairly accurate list,” she spat. She shuddered just afterwards and wrapped her good arm around her chest, looking no less relaxed than before.

He put a hand on her shoulder, but she drew back rapidly, pulling into herself for defence.

“You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you here,” he stated comfortingly.

She snorted, but with far less aggression than they’d expected. “Sure. Now turn the lights back on and stop messing with me. What do you want this time?”

She paused before continuing.

“Please don’t take me back in that room.”

“Which room?”

“ _The_ room. The one that you can hear the screams from. The one you take me into every three hours, before dumping what’s left back in the cell.”

“You aren’t going back there. I promise.”

“So what do you want then?” she asked hesitantly, sounding like she didn’t believe a word of it.

“Nothing, we only want to-”

“So, you’re going to torture me for fun again?” she drew herself even further in. “Don’t.”

“That’s not what-”

“Please don’t” she whispered. “Not again.”

“Sabine Wren, I swear to you, on my life and the lives of those with me that we are not with the Empire and will not hurt you. We are with the rebellion, and we are here to help you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

An Ithorian assistant walked up and grunted something in his native language, prompting her to glance in his direction, confusion etched on her face.

“Is… is that an Ithorian?” she asked hesitantly.”

“Yes. His name is ne’keth. He joined us after the Empire destroyed the refugee clinic he was running on Ithor.”

The Ithorian grunted again and stepped forward. The Empire rarely employed non-humans, so his presence might just convince her that she wasn’t being tricked by the Empire.

“He wants to know if there’s anything you want. We’re all here to help, so if there’s anything at all-”

“Water,” she cut in, blind eyes staring in their direction. “Could I have some water?”

“Sure. Anything else, just let us know.”

One of the medics got Sabine a glass of water and brought it over, while another adjusted the medical bed so that she was more comfortable.

“Don’t drink it too fast,” one of the medics gently reminded her after she gulped the first glass down in a single go. “You might get a stomach upset, especially if they’ve been supplying you through IV tubes.”

Sabine nodded and lay against the bed, still flinching away from any contact with the medics despite their reassurances that they were friends and not enemies.

“We should be done scanning in a few minutes,” the head doctor informed her as she lay, sipping her 3rd glass of water. She was still very skittish, and didn’t seem to trust them, but had no other options but to go with it.

She nodded nervously and sipped again, looking to wherever she heard one of the medics move nearby, each time drawing away slightly as though she expected a blow to come at any second.

* * *

 

Ezra came charging into the waiting room after 5 minutes or so.

“How is she?” he demanded.

“It could be worse,” Kanan replied after a pause.

“Wha-what?” he stuttered. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been held by the Empire in a facility designed to break people, what do you expect has happened to her?” Zeb snapped. Ezra stared at him in dismay, then ran over to the glass to look inside.

Zeb sighed, sorry he’d vented some of his frustration on Ezra.

“Look, kid, I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Ezra cut him off sadly. “The only thing I could see was her bleeding to death on the ground, begging me to stay.”

He leaned against the glass with his arms up, fists clenched so hard that they were as pale as Sabine’s skin.

“Ezra, there is nothing you can do here. Just wait,” Kanan said.

Ezra pushed off from the glass and threw himself down into a chair next to Zeb.

“There’s nothing any of us can do,” he muttered bitterly. “Couldn’t do anything then, still can’t do anything now.”

They continued watching Sabine from outside the room as she struggled to stay calm.

“Why can’t I see?” she asked suddenly, causing the medics to pause their work for a second.

“I, uh… don’t know yet,” the doctor replied awkwardly, lacking any real explanation for her lack of sight.

“Am I… am I blind?”

She knew what his silence meant.

“Is it permanent?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“I doubt it. That wouldn’t have helped them later on, so I think it must be a temporary measure. Is that OK?”

She rested her head back on the pillow provided and gave a hoarse “okay”

Ezra left the waiting room, as did Kanan and Zeb. They all knew her well enough to see how scared she was and they couldn’t face watching it any longer.

* * *

 

2 hours later, the head doctor met them in the waiting room. By then, Hera and Chopper had joined them and were standing with the others, not saying anything, just waiting.

“What’s it looking like, doc?” inquired Kanan.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” he replied. “It might be better to hear the good first.”

“What’s the good news then?” asked Hera.

“She has little to her internal organs and no spinal or brain damage. She has also had several cell reproduction stimulation injections to speed up the healing process, so what should take around 6 months for a clean bill of health has been reduced to 3,” the doctor replied. “The empire also gave her several tissue injections and boosters to help heal specific problems, such as the broken bones and dislocations.”

“And the bad?” inquired Zeb when the doctor didn’t continue.

The doctor sighed.

“I would rather not say in front of the kid,” he scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Ezra shook his head and firmly planted himself in a chair. “I’m staying.”

“Fine. She has a broken arm and all the bones in her fingers and toes have been broken at least once. There are also three fractured ribs, a broken one, fractures on the collarbone, all the bones in her forearms and both lower legs and a torn tendon in her right arm. She has suffered three dislocations of her left hip and two of her left kneecap, twisted the other knee, suffered multiple abrasions throughout her body and has that pattern of cuts on her skin. Most of those will heal normally, but some on her lower legs and forearms will remain as scars. As well as this…”

The list went on. Ezra leant forward and put his head down, face in his hands, prompting Hera to put a comforting arm around him.

“…several traces of unknown chemical substances have been discovered and they are being removed now. There is also the temporary blindness because of one of these chemicals, but the effect will wear off soon, within the next 5 hours or so.”

The doctor took a deep breath before continuing, taking stock of the reactions of those involved. Ezra was still staring at the floor, Hera with wide eyes, arm still around his shoulder. Kanan looked expressionless, but the doctor could tell he was just containing his emotions. Zeb looked like he’d rather be on a crashing Imperial ship than listening to this.

“We… we don’t know what they could’ve done to her mind. So for now, I’m placing an order restricting her from seeing or hearing you.”

“What?” there were several shocked gasps as they all stared at him, mouths agape.

“For all we know, she might think you’re dead, or even that Ezra is on the side of the Empire, if the rumours I’ve been hearing are true,” the doctor shot Ezra an apologetic look and Ezra returned to staring at the floor. “I believe that it might be too emotionally traumatic for her to see you right now, but I will let you talk as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

That was from Hera. The others remained silent.

“How close was she?” Kanan asked after an extended silence.

“To what?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Very close. Another day and I think she wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation with any of us.”

 

Kanan nodded, then turned away. The doctor left after a few seconds, leaving the crew to their thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. What did you think?  
> I am evil now, but I have yet to show the true extent of my power...  
> Do you think I should show my true evilness in writing in the next few chapters, or give them a break?
> 
> Fun Fact: 2187 is both Liea's holding cell number on the Death Star and Finn's 1st Order Stormtrooper Number.
> 
> As always, credit to ja54591 on FanFiction for checking my work for any glaringly obvious plot-holes, poor spelling, etc.
> 
> Let me know what, if anything, I should change or fix. Or if you want to let off some steam for being 7/9 hypermobile and dislocating your kneecap, like I did 2 nights ago.  
> *Sarcasm incoming* Yay! *Sarcasm has passed*  
> It's nothing too serious, but I'm constrained to walking with a brace on (no crutches this time tho!) and going fairly slowly.  
> Anyway, feel free to ask questions or hurl abuse, either is fine (but I think we all prefer constructive abuse or banter ;)
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support, I cannot express how appreciative I am of the support this series is getting :)  
> Expect the next one in a week!
> 
> Q&A (Fanfiction):  
> StormyOceans: This is really awesome! Please update soon!  
> Me: Here is one update, as requested.
> 
> Q&A (Archive of Our Own):  
> Kassey_Rey13: Another AMAZING chapter!!! Oh my gosh!!! I can't wait for the next chapter!!!!  
> Me: Here it is!


	8. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P8 - Terms of Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew try to relax after the rescue mission, but someone else appears and ruins their plans (and their fleet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the ridiculous amount of time it took for me to upload it. There were so many reasons, more fully explained at the end notes.
> 
> Comments and my responses down at the bottom.

Star Wars Rebels – Shattering P8 – Terms of Surrender

Ezra lay with his chin on his arms, resting on the table and staring into the small ward that Sabine had been placed in. Hera sat next to him.

“Do you need anything?” she asked gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

To say she was concerned for him was an understatement. She could practically see his pain etched on his face as he stared at Sabine. She was still just as withdrawn as before and still blind, all of which Ezra must’ve been tearing himself up about, not to mention what else had happened.

“I think you should do something else,” she said firmly. “Agonising over her isn’t going to help either of you. Grab some food maybe.”

“I can’t leave her. I need to stay,” he replied firmly. “At least until her sight is back.”

“Come on now Ezra,” Hera said comfortingly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “She wouldn’t want you to get sick worrying about her, would she?”

“But…” he gave a depressed sigh. “I just… it won’t leave me alone. How defenceless she is. And it’s my fault. All my fault.”

Hera pulled his face up to hers gently until he was looking into her eyes.

“It’s not your fault. You had to leave. It was that or we’d all be in the same position… or worse.”

He nodded and looked back at Sabine, who was fumbling for a glass of water, blind hand groping the air as it searched.

Ezra got up and walked slowly over to the door, where he paused to look back before leaving and heading to the canteen.

“How is he?” Zeb asked as Hera left the room, padding up next to her as they followed Ezra.

“About as well as can be expected,” Hera replied with a sad shrug. “He hasn’t done anything but watch her for the last couple of hours.”

“Uh oh, stalker alert,” Zeb tried to joke. It fell flat; Neither of them were capable of laughing at a joke just then.

Ezra grabbed a tray and cutlery, walking over to get some food from the serving tables. Unlike most ships of its size and smaller, the Nebulon B-2 had a functioning cafeteria and kitchen, providing cooking facilities for fresh, warm food.

“What do you want kid?” one of the servers asked.

Ezra shrugged. “Don’t mind.”

The server frowned and looked at Ezra’s face closer.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Could I just have something please?”

 “I’ll give you the roast boar, with a jogun fruit sauce and diced vegetables then,” the server stated, dishing up a generous helping.

“Thanks.”

Ezra went over to an empty table and sat down, picking at his food.

“Is he OK?” the server asked Hera as she picked her meal.

“Could be better. His friend was the one we were rescuing earlier,” Hera replied with a sigh, glancing over at Ezra. “She was there for a week or so, the doctors reckon. It wasn’t good.”

“Ah,” the server finished serving her the food she’d picked. “I’m sorry. Make sure he eats his food. It’ll do him some good.”

Hera thanked him and walked over to Ezra. Several rebels kept glancing at them, whispering amongst themselves.

 _I guess the rumours spread like wildfire_ , she thought to herself as she sat next to a dejected Ezra. _That won’t do us any good._

Ezra hadn’t eaten anything yet, just shoved the food here and there, carving lines in the sauce.

“Come on, eat,” Hera gently encouraged him as she sat down. Zeb sat opposite them and began tucking into his food, more because Ezra needed encouragement than because he wanted to eat. None of them had much of an appetite.

“I can’t. I’m not hungry,” Ezra dropped the fork and leaned back, arms crossed.

“Ezra, you have to eat something,” Hera replied, putting a hand on his shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.

“I can’t,” Ezra laid his arms back on the table, and looked down at the floor. He really didn’t have an appetite at all.

“Sabine wouldn’t want you to punish yourself over her, would she?” Hera leaned forward, trying a different approach and trying get a better look at Ezra’s face, but he looked away, instead staring at the shiny wall.

“Hera’s right kid,” Zeb continued after Ezra didn’t reply. “You know how much Sabine hates to be pitied and worried upon. She’d definitely wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up about it.”

Ezra didn’t reply immediately, but then looked at Zeb sadly.

“How would you know what she wants for me?” He asked quietly, but with more hostility than before. “I abandoned her with the Empire. I would be surprised if she didn’t hate me.”

“Don’t say that,” Hera wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in closer. He made no attempt to resist or accept the hug, just stared at the table. “She would know you had no choice. She’ll understand.”

 _This isn’t working_ , Hera thought to herself, a glance at Zeb confirming her fears. Ezra wasn’t accepting any kindness or, well, anything. He was punishing himself for what happened, and nothing they were doing was helping.

_And we don’t know what she would think now. We don’t know how much worse it’ll get._

“She didn’t seem aware of what was happening…” Ezra said slowly, attracting the attention of Hera and Zeb. “It was like she was oblivious to it all. She was lying there and… just…. didn’t know what was going on.”

He grabbed his glass and took a sip of water, hand shaking.

“And she was scared, Hera. She was so scared…” Ezra continued, recalling what’d happened with a terrifying focus, as though he was experiencing everything again. In a way, he was.

“She begged me to stay. That’s how scared she was. She begged me to stay.”

Ezra held the glass in a vice-like grip. Tiny cracks began appearing on the furthest edges of it, and then blossomed downwards, tracing an intricate design that seemed to mimic the cuts on Sabine, only more jagged and random.

There was a thump as a tray was placed on the table opposite Ezra, snapping them out of their trance-like state.

It was the Ithorian doctor, still dressed in a hospital gown from his work in the medbay, looking after Sabine. He’d brought a small metal cylinder with him, and he placed it on the table.

“Hello, Ghost crew,” a monotone voice came out of the device, probably a translator, as the Ithorian grunted something. “I heard about what happened and wanted to see if you were ok.”

Ezra huffed and put his cup down, leaning back and folding his arms. Hera kept hers around him.

“I’m fine,” he stated as he leaned back, daring them to disagree.

“You don’t seem fine. I wanted to tell you that it will work out.”

Ezra stared at the Ithorian for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“You can’t know that. You don’t know what happened,” he snapped.

“I do know. You’d be surprised at the things I’ve seen,” came the reply, without a perceptible change in tone or emotion. “I can tell you how.”

“Go ahead,” Hera answered when Ezra didn’t respond.

“I used to work in a hospital in Vuilar city, on a planet called Wersham. It is… was, one of the most diverse planets in the galaxy in terms of sentient races. The Empire had quite a tight control over the planet and used it for research and development.”

“And I guess the inhabitants were the test subjects,” Zeb commented distastefully. “All those species in one area. No need to ship them from elsewhere.”

“The Empire released a virus in the district I worked in. It targeted only Rodians, but in two days it evolved to the extent that it would kill all life-forms. It destroyed the tissue in the joints, and then the muscle. It caused crippling hallucinations as the brain was damaged, ones that were so real that they believed their own family was an enemy. Eventually, the cardiac muscle would become so weak that the victim suffered a heart attack and died, if they hadn’t done so already, from numerous other causes.”

“What did the Empire do then?” Ezra asked hesitantly, having been drawn in by the emotion in the Ithorian’s voice, even though it wasn’t translated to basic by the device.

“The Empire?” he sighed and leaned back slightly. “They just quarantined the area and let us die. Eventually, they decided that too many people were surviving or escaping, and fire-bombed the area.”

The tables nearest to them had fallen silent, enthralled by the horrific story.

“They collected the survivors for study, then let the city burn to the ground. It was so bright, it could be seen from space.”

“How did you escape?” Hera inquired after a pause.

“I was taken in by the Empire initially, and set to work turning the virus into a non-lethal version for torture use. I escaped one night by boarding a transport ship with several other survivors. On board, there was a family with an escaped prisoner, who escaped into the city and caught the disease over a week before.”

There was no other voice except for his; everyone else was listening with rapt attention.

“He was one of the worst cases I’d ever seen. He had been held by the Empire for three years before this, and tricked into believing that everyone was an enemy, long before he escaped. Then he caught the virus, and deteriorated to the point of death.”

He leaned forward so that he was staring Ezra in the eye.

“He recovered. Against all odds, he fought off the infection, and was able to remember his family despite the lies of the Empire. So, I believe that your friend will recover.”

Ezra nodded and flashed a ghost of a smile.

“Thanks,” Ezra said gratefully. The Ithorian simply nodded and began eating.

“Commander Syndulla, we need you on deck ASAP,” the ship’s captain ordered over the comm.

Hera and Zeb exchanged worried glances as they stood to leave, Ezra reluctantly following; he’d only just begun eating.

* * *

 

They ran up and burst into the bridge, which was a storm of activity. Rebels moved around like bees, swarming various stations to compile data and spot anything out of the ordinary.

“What’s up captain?” Hera asked as they entered, glancing through the viewscreen at the rebel cruiser sitting near the fleet.

“It’s Admiral Falkner’s cruiser,” the captain responded. “But he’s not answering our hails.”

The cruiser had a couple of blast marks on the surface, but other than that, it was fine. The power was still on and the engines glowed a dim blue against the backdrop of space. Admiral Falkner had set out with a small escort.

The cruiser was alone.

“Could they have a comm malfunction?” Hera asked.

“Possibly, but they’d have sent a ship over to let us know.”

Hera nodded and tapped the command console to send a message herself. “Admiral Falkner, this is Commander Hera, can you hear us?”

There was a pause, then one of the rebels yelled.

“Weapons and shields powering up!” he screamed. “They’re targeting us!”

There was a brief flurry of status reports, then a voice cut in.

“Hello there, Commander Syndulla,” the 4th Brother grinned as his face appeared on the main screen, without any of the rebels authorising it to do so. “It has been a long time since we last met. Please come over so we can catch up, and the discuss terms of surrender… your surrender. Just you and two others, _the_ two others.”

Hera took a sharp breath. Everyone else held theirs, watching the newcomer with a mixture of fear and apprehension.

“And if we refuse?” she inquired.

“Then you all die,” he responded calmly, seemingly bored. “Starting with the medical frigate.”

“But it’s our entire fleet against your one cruiser.”

The 4th Brother chuckled.

“My one cruiser? I think you’re miscounting.”

2 Star Destroyers suddenly dropped out of hyperspace, encircling the rebel fleet. They aimed their guns, but held fire, cutting off the rebel ships that tried to manoeuver away. A single A-wing impacted the surface of one of the Star Destroyers and exploded before the rebels realised they were completely surrounded.

“First one of you to try escape gets vaporised,” the 4th Brother stated, calmly picking at a nail while the rebels panicked. “So, do you agree?”

Hera searched the faces of those around her. They ranged from sadness to fear to anger, all throughout the room. They all knew they were helpless, at the mercy of the Empire despite everything they’d done to fight back.

“I… I will go to discuss terms of surrender,” she replied after a moment’s consideration.

The transmission ended.

Hera immediately began to outline a basic backup plan with the captain as Kanan and Ezra went to grab a remote detonator from the armoury. There was something they could do.

The Ghost docked with the cruiser a few minutes later, and the crew walked to the bridge. The route was marked by dropped guns and blood splatters, but it was actually cleaner than they’d expected. There were no bodies, for a start, and there were almost no blast marks on the walls. Almost as though the rebels hadn’t been shooting at him, but were instead dropping their weapons as they ran.

Ran in fear.

The negotiation room he’d selected was actually off to the side of the bridge, a simple meeting room with a window to space and a table in the centre, with 2 chairs on either side, all drilled into the floor. The 4th Brother stood in the shadows at the other side, hands folded behind his back.

“So, how are we all?” The 4th Brother asked courteously as the crew stood on the other side table. “I hope your little rescue went well.”

“It went fine,” Hera replied smoothly, not questioning how he knew about it, considering it’d happened less than 2 hours ago. “We got her out.”

“Ah, and how _is_ our dear Miss Wren? I hope she is recovering well from the week you decided to leave her in prison for.”

He gave a slight smirk at the anger clouding the crew’s faces. Ezra’s especially.

“I must admit, I’m quite disappointed I was… unavailable, during her capture. I would’ve very much liked to join in. We could’ve had so much _fun_ together.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Ezra snarled, prompting the inquisitor to laugh in amusement.

“As fun as the recordings of that week are to watch, the best thing about it is that you abandoned her there, Ezra. You _left_ her with the Empire, when, by all accounts, she wanted you to stay. In fact, I think the word used was _begged_. She _begged_ you to stay.”

Ezra’s hand twitched towards his lightsaber, something the 4th Brother noticed with a raising of an eyebrow. He kept his hands behind his back and smirked.

“That’s not something our Sabine does very often now, is it?” He let out a short bark of laughter. “At least when she’s not in prison, waiting for her boyfriend to swoop in and rescue her after he left. After he betrayed her. Stabbed her in the back when she needed him most, and left a weak and vulnerable girl be tortured until her mind snapped, shattered like glass and put-back together in _our_ way.”

He chuckled and continued to talk, even more mockingly than before.

“You should’ve seen it, child. How she became more depressed and submissive as time went on. How she slowly spiralled out of control as she realised that you weren’t coming for her, that the person she thought she could trust most ended up truly betraying her.”

He unclasped his hands and made a downwards spiralling motion with a finger.

“Every day, no, every session, a little more obedient, a little less hostile. Spiralling down and down and down as she blamed you more and more for what happened.”

He finished the spiral with a little ‘boop’ and laughed.

“And you gave us the perfect tool to break her.”

“Shut. Up,” Ezra ordered venomously. Kanan put a hand out to stop him advancing on the inquisitor.

The Inquisitor’s face suddenly hardened, smile disappearing.

“And how she hates you now. Oh, does she hate you now. Do you know-”

Ezra drew his lightsaber, shortly followed by Kanan.  It was quite clear that the Inquisitor had an ulterior motive, but they couldn’t say what it was.

“I think you need to stop talking,” Ezra interrupted aggressively. Kanan didn’t say anything, but stepped forward.

The 4th Brother’s mouth twitched upwards at the corners as he drew one of his own.

“Do you know, one of the most Important things to Mandalorians is family. Betraying your family is one of the ultimate sins in Mandalorian society.”

He twirled his lightsaber deftly, cutting the base off a seat.

“Sabine, while not your traditional Mandalorian, still holds many of the core traditions of Mandalore, does she not?”

Their silence was answer enough.

“So how do you think she must feel, now that someone from her new family betrayed her.”

Ezra glared at the Inquisitor, wishing he could hurl himself forward and cut him down.

“Your thoughts betray you, boy. You know it’s true. You know you’ve committed a crime for which she’ll never forgive you.”

“She will understand,” Kanan countered. “She was put in the same position by her family.”

“But was she though? Did her family abandon her when she wanted them to never leave her, regardless of the damage it could cause? No, she betrayed her family to save them. Her family didn’t want her to stay because she was leaving. However, you, you betrayed her for-”.

“SHUT UP!” Ezra yelled, cutting him off before he could dig the wound any deeper. His vision was clouded red and anger radiated off him so strongly that even Hera seemed to be able to sense it.

“I think I’ve made my point clear enough,” the Inquisitor put his 2 free hands behind his back and straightened up. “Now, I believe we were discussing terms of surrender, your surrender, were we not?”

Hera nodded, but gave him a glare that could’ve vaporised a Star Destroyer.

“So then, Commander, please have a seat.”

With that he hurled the chair at the trio, sending them crashing to the ground. They struggled up to their feet in time to block the incoming blows.

The 4th Brother was fighting with a single hand, the other two clasped behind his back.

“Order your ships to surrender!” he snarled as he shoved Ezra and Kanan back. “Order them now or I will destroy them, starting with the hospital ship!”

“Fuck you!” Ezra screamed, hurling himself at the inquisitor, who swiftly dodged to one side and grabbed Ezra’s neck with one of his left hands, stopping him mid-air and cutting off his oxygen supply.

“Oh, I’m disappointed Ezra,” the 4th Brother scolded. “You were so condescending of Sabine when she overcommitted to a blow, yet you make the same mistake, frankly a rookie one, if I’m being honest with you.”

Ezra’s lightsaber clattered to the floor as the teen clawed at the unfeeling metal arm, light-headed from the lack of oxygen.

“So, you will order your ships to power down and surrender to the Empire,” the 4th Brother ordered calmly. “Or else I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you all, and then report a successful mission to Lord Vader. Up to you really.”

Hera’s eyes met Kanan’s and she sighed. They’d been played straight from the get-go. He had aggravated Ezra enough to get the least experienced member of their crew to make a mistake, and now had the perfect bargaining chip.

 _Sneaky son of a bitch_ she thought to herself.

“Fine. We surrender,” she lowered her gun, slumping her shoulders in defeat. Kanan deactivated his lightsaber, but stood ready, in case something else happened.

“Excellent. You saw sense.”

The 4th Brother dropped Ezra onto the floor and tossed them each a pair of high-strength electro-cuffs.

“Specially made for Jedi,” the 4th Brother smiled sweetly as they put them on, hands in front of them. “You try to pull the cuffs off, you get an electric shock. Don’t try pull them off, it’ll just hurt you more. Or, you could continually resist and give me something entertaining to watch, I don’t mind either way.”

The 4th Brother went over to Kanan and gave the cuffs a sharp tug, sending a shock straight through Kanan, who remained silent.

“Looks like they work,” he grinned as he paced towards Hera. “Do yours?” he asked, taking her face in his hands by the chin, and pretending to admire her face.

“I think they’ll work just fine,” she replied, trying not to show her disgust.

The inquisitor cackled. “Oh I’m sure they do. But I’m not one to take this kind of risk,” he replied, yanking on the cuffs and sending a shock through Hera as well. To her credit, she didn’t make a sound.

“Now, let’s talk about surrendering. Unconditional. Right now. It’s that or extermination, whichever you prefer.”

Hera scowled at him, thinking over their options.

“Fine,” she spat, and he dragged her over to the communications panel. He pulled out her headpiece, then shoved her towards the microphone.

“Listen up rebels, your great commander has a message for you,” he broadcast to all the rebel ships.

“All rebel ships, stand down. We… we are unconditionally surrendering to the Empire,” she said, defeated, watching the Star Destroyers drift closer. Soon, they’d be surrounded in a death trap of Star Destroyers, unable to escape. “We have no choice.”

The rebel ships hung in the blackness for several agonising seconds, then a CR90 began to power up, engines sending it shooting forward.

“Oh, no, no, no, we can’t have someone running off like that,” the 4th Brother dumped Hera and paced to the weapons control panel. He hit a couple of buttons and the CR90 was barraged with lasers, shortly followed by a pair of torpedoes that bypassed the shields and detonated on the hull.

“Oops,” he grinned at the destruction.

The ship split in two, escape pods launching as it drifted apart. The shields flickered and went off on both sections, leaving them vulnerable to the fire which began to shred through the durasteel panelling and circuitry.

There was a whisper in the ears of the Ghost crew.

“Charges set and the team is out. You may blow it when ready.”

The 4th Brother had begun to systematically destroy the escape pods and any large pieces of ship that still remained, leaving Kanan and Ezra free to do what they wanted.

Ezra felt a twitch in his mind. Kanan was trying to speak over their force bond.

 _Ezra. I need you to grab the detonator from Hera,_ Kanan told him.

 _On it,_ Ezra replied, crawling towards Hera as quietly as possible. The 4 th Brother gave a cackle as something else exploded.

 _Where is it?_ He asked Kanan.

 _I don’t know, find it!_ Kanan answer hurriedly.

“Hera…” Ezra began, but the 4th Brother straightened up at the noise. There was a tense several seconds as they waited to be discovered, but he went back to shooting the ship.

 _I can’t talk, or he’ll hear me_ Ezra realised. _And I can’t talk to Hera through the force, so I’ll have to look myself._

That was going to be an issue. There were so many different pockets and it could’ve been in any one of them.

Hera shot a look at Ezra and he mouthed the words _detenator_. She raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

 _DETENATOR!!!_ He screamed internally as he made a motion as though he was pressing the button on the detonator. He got a confused look in response.

He rolled his eyes and mimed it again, followed by an explosion this time.

Hera’s eyes widened as she realised and lifted her leg, indicating that it was in the pocket on her thigh,

 _Get ready to run_ , he told Kanan over the bond, grabbing the detenator. He pointed to her eyes with a pair of fingers, then to Kanan, who was slowly getting up, without making a sound. Hera’s eyes flickered towards Kanan, then she nodded.

The 4th Brother pushed away from the console with a short whoop. He stretched his arms and swung round.

“Now that I’ve made an example, I think…” he trailed off, seeing Kanan and Hera standing by the door, Ezra standing slightly ahead of them with something in his hand.

“Oops,” Ezra grinned.

He pressed the button.

Explosions rocked the ship and the power flickered for a few seconds as the explosives planted by a rebel team detonated inside the reactor. The crew forced open the door and charged out, using the short amount of time bought by the explosion.

The 4th Brother picked himself off the floor and raced after them, extracting a lightsaber off his belt and activating it, slicing his way through the few object’s they’d managed to pull down on their way to the Ghost.

“Come back here,” the 4th Brother called teasingly, in a sing-song voice. The rebels were on their way back to the Ghost and they were on an unfamiliar ship, with 2 members unable to fight. The odds were firmly on his side.

 _No meddling Wrens to shoot me this time,_ the Inquisitor gleefully thought as he ran.

He took a shortcut through the medical ward, having memorised the fastest route to the place where he’d ordered them to dock the Ghost. They were not going to be able to beat him to the Ghost, not by a long shot.

“Guys, this way!” Kanan yelled as they turned a corner, followed by Ezra, then Hera.

They ran to the next junction, the last before the Ghost.

“Hellooo…” the o dragged on for a second as Kanan hit the extended arm at full speed and went crashing to the floor.

Ezra yelled something obscene and didn’t stop running at the Inquisitor as he stepped from behind the corner. The 4th Brother swung a lightsaber at Ezra, but Ezra stopped suddenly, just out of range, the angry red blade skimming his clothes and digging into the wall on the other side.

Ezra’s lightsaber sliced through the 4th Brother’s left arms right at the point where they joined, just before they met the body. The smell of scorched metal filled the air as Ezra force-pushed the Inquisitor back down the corridor, providing the opportunity they needed to get to the Ghost.

“You’ll never escape!” The 4th Brother screamed as he reached the airlock just after the door closed. “I’LL GET HER AND MAKE YOU WATCH HER DIE! I’LL MELT HER BONES AND TURN THEM INTO GLASS! I’LL MAKE YOU EAT HER FLESH! I’LL-”

The transmission was cut off in a burst of static as the power was drained from the ship and the Ghost blasted off. The lights inside flashed and cut out, plunging it into darkness.

“Hm…” the 4th Brother hummed as he rubbed his chin with his remaining arm. “Did that scare them enough?” he mused to himself.

He banished the thought of scaring the rebels with threats and picked up the charred remains of his metal arms, somehow still joined together at the base.

“A shame. I liked that pair,” he thought aloud, before tossing them behind him as he made his way to the bridge. “Maybe I’ll get a cortosis set next time.”

On the Ghost, Ezra managed to pilot the ship towards the fleet under Hera’s guidance. The cruiser hid them from view and they had to orbit the ship to get back.

They gave a gasp as they saw what had happened. Somehow, one of the Star Destroyers was disabled, and the rebel ships were using it as cover from the other one. It’d come at a cost though; 2 shattered CR90s and several charred fighters drifted between the ships, leaving them at 3 CR90s, 10 fighters, and the hospital ship.

“Rebel fleet, perform emergency hyperspace jump,” Hera broadcast to the rebel ships, who began spooling up their hyperdrives. “You know the rendezvous co-ordinates.”

“The Star Destroyer is almost within firing range!” exclaimed Ezra as Hera rapidly began pressing buttons, seemingly at random, to power their hyperdrive. The engines began to rumble and blue and orange glows appeared at the end of the rebel ships as their hyperdrives powered up.

It wasn’t almost there. It _was_ there. Lasers filled the space below the Star Destroyer as the first CR90 warped out, then a second managed to escape with light damage. The third was obliterated and the activated hyperdrive ruptured, tearing an uncontrollable hole to hyperspace for a millisecond, in which it pulled in most of the wreck…

…and pulled the Nebulon off course.

“Re-calculate!” the captain screamed as lasers pounded them, causing the shields to shimmer and warp under the fire. “Re-calculate the jump!”

“Oh no…” gasped Hera, putting a shocked hand to her mouth as the ship’s shields flickered and failed and the shots began impacting the surface, then breaking through.

A section of hull blasted off and fire erupted from the gaping hole left behind. They watched as the lasers shredded their way through the ship and came out at the exact diagonal opposite of the ship, sending chunks of metal and twisted, molten plastics erupting from the 2 holes.

The Imperials began targeting the joint between the engines and the main ship. More metal flew off the ship and fires began erupting along the joining part.

The ship vanished.

Hera hit the launch button and they too warped to hyperspace.

* * *

 

“That was too close,” breathed Ezra. 

 _Another few seconds and Sabine would be gone again_ , he didn’t add as he began working on unlocking the cuffs on his friends, each silently thinking the same thing.

His hands were shaking slightly as he unlocked Hera’s and she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Their eyes met and they could both see the worry reflected back at them in both the blue and the brown eyes.

They burst their way out of lightspeed at their rendezvous, just a couple of systems away from the battle. Ahead of them, a dull red star glowed venomously, Phoenix squadron ships blackening out parts of it as they drifted closer to the devastated Striker squadron.

“Striker squadron, sound off,” Hera ordered through the comm, voice strained.

“Striker One, all systems nominal.”

“Striker Two, minor damage to hull and engines. We can fix that fine.”

“Fighter wing reporting ten craft remaining, one crippled and five damaged.”

They waited for a response from the Nebulon, but didn’t get any.

“Anyone got eyes on the _Hermes_?” Hera asked.

“60 degrees to your starboard,” Striker Two responded after a few seconds.

Hera turned the ship and stopped so that they could look at the horrific sight that awaited them.

The Nebulon B-2 was practically gutted, massive hole cutting diagonally through the centre of the ship. The entirety of the length of the connector to the engines was ablaze, the ship literally blasted down to the fuel lines and a few remaining struts keeping the engines connected to the ship. Billowing clouds of scorched hull plates, vaporised electronics, and pretty much every other possible thing enveloped the ship in a haze.

“ _Hermes_ , come in. Striker Three, are you there?”

A picture fizzled onto the display screen and the ship’s Captain appeared, coughing, and waving some smoke away from his face.

“Striker Three here,” he reported, the room behind him an orange swirl of colour as the smoke warped the flow of the light. “Just about.”

“Is there any point in asking a status report?”

“Probably not,” he managed a grin.

Hera tapped the scanners and set them to scan the ship. “How is the ship doing?”

“You’ve got hanging on by a thread, and then you’ve got us.”

Hera’s mouth twitched up slightly.

“How have the medical patients fared?”

The Captain rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Medical, all the patients are fine. The ward wasn’t even damaged. We’ve lost pretty much everything else. Weapons are offline, most of our stores are gone, the engine compartments are venting atmosphere, and we’ve detected traces of the shield generator in the air now. Worst of all…”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“The bar’s gone.”

Hera chuckled, a combination of the post-adrenaline rush high and a somewhat euphoric sentiment, caused by their survival against the odds, and the fact that Sabine was safe. It’d been far too close for comfort, but they’d made it. Somehow.

“Glad to know your sense of humour survived. Can you move anywhere?”

“We can try…”

An engine detached from the hull. No explosion, it just drifted off into the blackness, still glowing a dull blue.

“Hmm….” The Captain frowned. “Looks like we’re going so slow even a Stormtrooper could hit us.”

“That’d be a first,” joked Striker One.

The Ghost docked with the Nebulon, as did several other ships, and they slowly drifted the battered vessel over to a safe spot. The rendezvous was specially chosen in this system, as not only was it the corner system for five separate rebel operation zones, it had a habitable planet and a long-standing rebel asteroid hidden in the massive field that orbited the star.

Ezra winced at the groan of metal originating from the Nebulon as they turned a little too fast and a hull plate was wrenched off the hull.

“How has it not fallen apart yet?” he wondered aloud, watching the dented metal drift past the viewscreen, a slightly darker black against the void of space.

“Don’t say that,” Striker 2 sighed. “You’ll get trouble if you ask for it.”

* * *

 

Several hours later, Hera had sorted out the logistics of the situation to the extent that she felt the base commander could handle it and docked in the station, drifting in to land amongst the scorched fighters that littered the repair bays. The medical patients from the Hermes had already been unloaded to a new medical ward, and the crew had been assigned rooms close to Sabine’s, something they were all quite content with.

“Hey commander,” the Captain of the Nebulon greeted as he walked over in the hanger bay. The Ghost crew were already unloading stuff to move into their new rooms, piling some bags with their few possessions, and several of Sabine’s things.

“Hey,” she replied, looking at the man. His uniform was sooty, as was most of the rest of him, and he sported a burn down the left side of his chest. “The Captain of the _Hermes_.”

“That’s me. Name’s Marx.”

They shook hands.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m probably going to be off for a good month or so with this,” he gestured to his burn, wincing at the effort.

“No problem. You’ve earned the rest,” she patted his shoulder on his uninjured side, and continued to unload, letting the captain wander his way down to the medical ward on the station while Kanan walked over. “How’s it looking hon?”

Kanan handed her the bag containing her stuff and stretched his arms, easing the tension that’d been built up during the mission.

“It’s going OK. Ezra and I have our stuff and Sabine’s stuff packed. Zeb contacted us while you were out here and decided he’d rather grab his stuff later. Chopper too.”

Hera cocked an eyebrow. “Where are they now?”

“Where do you think?” Kanan shrugged. “They’re helping out in the _Hermes_. Or what’s left of it.”

“Right…” Hera’s shoulders slumped forward and she put a hand to her forehead, tired by the emotional stress and the physical strain over the previous 24 hours. Kanan put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you Ok?”

She nodded and they embraced for a moment, enjoying the peace in each other’s arms for a brief moment.

“Woah, woah, woah!” a mechanic yelled as the engines of an A-wing activated with a spluttering whoosh.

Everyone in the hanger turned to see the mechanic fall off the battered craft as it rose slightly and drifted forward, before one of the wingtips snagged a pole just off to the side of the repair station, causing it to spin endlessly.

“Let’s just check on Sabine and then get some rest,” Hera suggested and he nodded, ignoring the futile efforts of the mechanic to climb back on and deactivate the engines. They walked through the station, following the clearly-labelled route, and found Sabine in a separate ward, relatively relaxed, surprisingly.

“I guess she’s ok for now,” Kanan said, sensing her feelings through the force. “She definitely isn’t stressed.”

Hera saw Ezra making a move to enter the room out of the corner of her eye, and she gently grabbed his shoulder, turning him so they were face-to-face.

“No, Ezra,” she said, waggling her finger in front of him. “You need sleep. She’ll still be here when we wake up.”

Ezra nodded and walked past the entrance to the wards, stumbling through the nearest door and collapsing on the bed. Within seconds, he was asleep.

“Night hon,” Kanan yawned, exhausted. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension as he stepped into his room.

“Night.”

They both promptly fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I apologize for the length of time it took me to get this uploaded. I had some writing issues (also known as writer’s block), then some adjustments, a late but important addition about a week ago, and finally, retarded internet security increase, so suddenly most of the VPNs don’t work anymore. I literally only found a working one about 3 days ago.  
> Regardless, what did you think of the chapter? I enjoyed the stuff after they meet the 4th Brother the most, because I enjoy writing his character and space-fights. Does anyone know what Cortosis is? I’m just gonna say, it’ll be fun to have that in a later chapter.  
> Let me know in the comments! I want to know what you think about it, as well as criticisms and suggestions, because I write it for you guys, and I want you to enjoy it. {Subtle spoiler for the next chapter – Ezra and Sabine. What do you think will happen?}  
> Oh, and special thanks to ja54591, on Fanfiction, (and now Archive of Our Own) because he’s been a great help in moderating and checking my stories before the release. 
> 
> Comments (Fanfiction):
> 
> Hyundai the Freight Train: Wow, I like the seriousness tone to the story. It keeps the audience interested. I really like your story and hope you'all stay committed to it.  
> Me: Good :) I write it for you guys to enjoy! I will stay committed as long as people continue reading it.  
> BTW, I love the name
> 
> Dustyspartan32: Very interesting. I look forward to seeing more of this.  
> Me: Here’s the newest chapter. Lots more… stuff, than I had originally anticipated. Next one should be released in the next week or so. I hope.
> 
> Guest: I feel like you have read my mind. Exactly the kind of stuff I wanted to see  
> Me: *Mind Reading intensifies*. Good :) I’m glad you like it. What did you think of this chapter?
> 
> Guest: Please update soon  
> Me: I do try to update every week, but if I miss my original target, I will delay it until next Saturday so people know when it’s most likely to be uploaded. Saturday afternoon everyone! After 4pm GMT, it should be uploaded. 
> 
> Guest: That was an amazing chapter! I hope you can get the next chapter up soon! :)  
> Me: What did you think of this one ;). Better than the last? 
> 
> Comments (Archive of Our Own):
> 
> Kassey_Rey13: Yay!!! They got Sabine back!!! But what will she think if Ezra? Is she gonna hate him for leaving her behind??  
> Me: I don’t know, you’ll have to wait and see…  
> The next chapter, I promise.
> 
> Stiletto Ren (Stiletto929): Youch. Poor Sabine. But the rescue... too easy. Espeically since Thrawn had to know they were coming. What CAN he be planning? And two of the earlier Imperial bases had those big craters nearby. Mighty suspicious. Something hidden underground? Weapons testing? Mining?  
> Me: I feel like a bit of a dick for what I've done to Sabine. And the worst isn't over  
> Thrawn was not present, he was busy elsewhere. All will be revealed in time.  
> Also, I completely forgot that there were giant craters at the 2 bases. I thank you, and will proceed to find a use for them, because that is actually useful. The one at the first base was a crater being mined, but I have an idea for the other one.  
> *Shameless idea theft intensifies*  
> Just kidding. Thanks for the idea though!


	9. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P9 - Broken Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares... or memories?  
> Dark chapter. I'm warning you now, dark chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! DARK CHAPTER AHEAD! INCLUDES TORTURE AND EMOTIONAL PAIN!

E3 P9 – Broken Inside

* * *

 

Sabine was back in the Imperial torture room, gasping for breath, throat painful and raw. Something had been suffocating her until she blacked out and she’d been woken with an electric shock. The hooded figure with glaring yellow eyes stared at her, then grabbed her left arm and put it on the table. Another did the same to her right.

She knew what was going to happen next. The freshly-healed pink skin from the previous cuts was re-opened, a thin, fiery blade slicing delicate skin and carving intricate patterns that Sabine would’ve admired had they been drawings. They traced wonderful swirls that blossomed out, leaving a thin, angry red cut behind. She struggled to remain silent, to not give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain, but let out a low moan as the blade, coated with a painful poison, sank slightly deeper into her arm.

“Tell us what we want to know and we’ll stop the pain,” one of them hissed as he finished with her arm.

“Go die,” she managed to snarl back, as she’d always managed to reply so far.

“Your fingers are recovering well, aren’t they?” it whispered. “Do you need your toes as much?”

He placed his foot down and slowly applied pressure, eliciting a scream of pain from her as the toes on her left foot were crushed under a metal heel.

“Don’t do this,” she managed to say before he repeated it and crushed the toes on her other foot.

“Do you need those fingers fully recovered yet though?” he asked, far too gently, after she finished screaming.

He slowly bent one of her fingers back slowly until the supports the Imperial doctors put on her finger snapped, along with the bone. He did it, again and again, with each finger until they were all broken and bent out of position and Sabine was groaning in pain.

They tilted the bench she was tied to so she was lying down. A sudden, harsh light switched on, blinding her, then it vanished as a cloth was put over her face. Water began pouring over her head non-stop, so she felt like she was drowning. As soon as she was almost unconscious, they stopped and let her get her breath back, then repeated the exercise, once, twice, thrice, until she lost track and struggled to stay awake.

After an eternity, it stopped. The mask was taken away and she could breathe again, spluttering and choking as she finally got a steady supply of air.

“Where is your base of operations?” the same one hissed, yellow eyes daring her to stay silent.

“My cell, you Shabuir,” she replied venomously.

The eyes widened at the extreme Mandalorian insult she’d just thrown at him.

“I see. We will have to use the serum again.”

“What? No, no, nononono you can’t use it again. Not that, anything but that!” she begged.

The figure ignored her and went to a small case on a separate table. Inside was a single, small blue vial of what she knew was X-21174, and an injector. As he did that, her ankle restraints released her, the wrist restraints detached from the table and the table folded down into the floor, leaving her hanging from the ceiling by her 2 arms, feet just on the floor enough to take her weight.

“I hope you enjoy,” the figure hissed as it injected the blue liquid into her veins. The figures waited for it to spread around the body, then yellow-eyes pressed a button and her whole body felt like it was on fire inside, forcing her to bite her lip as she struggled to avoid yelling.

She screamed and one of the figures punched her in the gut. The pain suddenly tripled in that area; the serum amplified pain, as she’d learned earlier that day. It also contained stimulants to keep her awake throughout the procedure. They went at her, punching, kicking, clawing, everything. The surgical precision went out the window; the goal was to now beat her to unconsciousness. Her broken toes were kicked, her stomach pounded until she thought that they’d punch right through her. She felt a rib crack under one particularly savage hit. Then they backed off, leaving a dazed, barely conscious Sabine in the middle of the room. One stepped back and pulled a lever.

That was the key point. Electric shock, with pain amplified by the serum. After a few seconds, she passed out, slumping in the restraints.

“Take her back,” one of the figures ordered and 2 black-armoured troopers stepped in, picked her up, and dragged her back to her cell, where they dumped her. Several medics bound her broken bones together and swabbed all the wounds with antibiotics and stopped the most severe bleeding.

After an hour, Sabine woke up, having been practically moaning with pain while she was unconscious. She hauled herself into a corner and curled up, whimpering quietly. 2 hours after that, the guards came back, well-aimed blows bypassing her futile defences. They injected her with something else and she passed out.

She woke when something charged into the room, something large and purplish and possibly hairy, but she couldn’t tell through her blurred eyes.

“He’s not here. The girl’s here though. Should we bring her, or is she going to be too much of a distraction?” it asked into a communicator.

“Zeb?” she managed to croak quietly.

“Do I have to get her? She’s so bitchy and annoying!” the Lasat groaned at the incomprehensible reply. “Fine, I’ll get her.”

He bent over and picked her up, carelessly slinging her over his shoulder and enticing a soft moan from her.

“Shut up. I’ll toss you out the airlock if you don’t.”

He charged down the corridor, right into Kanan and Ezra.

“I’m guessing Hera told you to get her,” sighed Kanan.

“Yup.”

3 Stormtroopers rounded the corridor as they turned and tossed something. It landed with a clunk, letting off a deafening bang and dizzying brightness. She passed out, her mind overloaded.

* * *

 

Ezra was holding Sabine up over a cliff. She looked down, into a pitch-black pit, then back at Ezra. His eyes had changed from blue to a red that stood out against the black sky, and he spoke in a cold, sadistic voice, every word cutting into her.

“Goodbye, Miss Wren. It was nice to finally kill you.”

He dropped her and she tumbled into an inky void, falling, falling, falling. Surrounded by never-ending blackness. The cliff had gone, as had everything else that she could see.

“EZRA!” She screamed as she fell. The emptiness ate up her words and made no reply.

 She landed with a thump between 2 lines, 2 lines of hundreds of chained beings with no faces, on burned and filthy ground. She got up, unharmed, and moved to the nearest one, hand outstretched, not sure of what she was doing.

No response.

They all ignored her attempts to communicate, marching slowly in synchronization, never-ending lines of people stretching out in all directions, marching like cogs in a giant machine. There were millions of them, marching under a black sky, on scorched brown earth, packed hard and flat by the millions who’d been walking that way before in the same direction, with no destination in sight.

“Do you see?”

She spun and saw the 4th brother standing behind her, smirking. His arms were folded behind his back and he stood straight, seeming to tower above everyone else while still being the same height.

“Do you see what you have done to your people?” His voice was neutral as he stared at her.

“My... My people?” she stuttered, standing helplessly, unsure of how to respond.

“These are your people, and others, cowed by the weapons you made, on the planet you destroyed. Now they are being led as slaves, like lambs to the slaughter.”

Sabine took a deep breath and pointed at the 4th brother, speaking with as much conviction as she could muster.

“I am undoing what I've done.”

He cackled, eyes never leaving hers.

“You can never undo the damage you have done. No matter what you've done with your family, Mandalore will never forgive you for enslaving her people. No matter how many Stormtroopers you kill or ships you destroy, the families of those you killed and enslaved, Mandalorian or not, will never let you rest. They will continue to punish, until you admit to your crimes and pay for them. For turning their species into cowering lambs.”

He paced up to her. She willed herself to run, but she was paralysed, unable to look away from the piercing eyes. The instant he put his foot down for the last time, so did all of the faceless slaves in a single, deafening thump. A shocking silence followed, the air seeming to eat up all the noise.

“Do you hear it?” he whispered.

“What?” she asked against her will.

He leaned over her, grinning with his mouth only.

“The silence of the lambs?”

She woke again with a gasp in a pitch-black room, face down, hands tied behind her. She looked up as a spotlight turned on, illuminating her 4 friends held by 2 Stormtroopers each. A single Stormtrooper stood behind each one, blaster drawn, light shimmering off their polished armour.

Yellow-eyes put his foot down beside her head.

“Which one will die?” he asked quietly, raspy voice betraying no emotion.

She looked up at him, mouth wide in shock.

“Wha... What do you mean?” she stuttered, unable to comprehend what he said, having barely registered… whatever had happened just before.

“You chose who will die. If you don't chose, they will all die.”

She looked back at her friends, taking shaky breaths. Their faces ranged from annoyance through fear to simply staring at her.

“Why?” she whispered, eyes wide as she looked at the figure next to her.

“Which will it be? The uncaring Lasat who's hairballs and careless antics constantly cause you constant problems? The Jedi, who forced you to reveal what you did with your family through insults and making you look like a fool? The Twi’lek who selfishly took on a role as a mother figure to combat her own family problems and splitting you from your own family by doing so? The Jedi's whelp, who abandoned you to the Empire when you needed help most, who pesters you with sexual advances and who really doesn’t care for you?”

He stepped forward and made a sweeping gesture.

“So choose. Who will live and who will die?”

“Me,” she replied instantly, with as much firmness as she could gather. “Kill me and spare them.”

“Not an option,” Yellow-eyes hissed as the other crew members began arguing amongst themselves.

“Save the others!” demanded Hera

Zeb countered immediately. “You're all too important! Choose me!”

Ezra interjected next. “I contribute the least!”

“You are much more important!” snapped Kanan. “I'm just a Jedi, but Hera’s a rebellion commander, Zeb’s one of the last of his species and Ezra’s the future of the Jedi!”

Sabine ignored them eyes flicking between them in desperation.

“I... I...” she could barely breathe

“Time's up. Who dies?”

“Uhh... I don't know. How am I supposed to choose? What will happen to those who aren’t executed?” she tried to play for time, desperation clawing its way into her voice.

“They all die then.”

“No, wait! Please!”

He gestured to the Stormtroopers.

“You stupid bitch!” snarled Ezra, struggling at to break free. “You've just killed us all!”

“I can't believe we ever agreed to take you on! We should've left you to die!” continued Hera, just as angry, but with an underlying layer of fear.

“We never liked you anyway,” Zeb spat. “I told you guys she'd get us killed. We should’ve just spaced her!”

 “I’ll help you if you spare them!” Sabine shouted to the Imperials.

She looked up at the yellow-eyed figure. It motioned with one hand and a blast to the back of the head killed Zeb. His body thumped to the ground, blood beginning to pool beneath him.

“No, please don’t kill them,” she begged as he motioned again. Kanan’s body hit the floor.

She begged and pleaded as Ezra was killed, his small body making much less of a sound as he was dropped.

“I’ll tell you everything! Everything you want to know! Just spare Hera!” she pleaded as she stared at Ezra’s corpse through blurry eyes.

Hera glared at her. “Traitor!”

Sabine looked her just as the final trooper shot Hera. Her green body slumped down, eyes glazing in death.

“NO!” Sabine wailed. Her bonds were cut and she scrambled forward to Hera’s body. The small pool of blue blood was warm and sticky. She felt Ezra’s and her hand came back red and warm, blood tracing a path down her wrist and onto her arm.

“no…” she managed to gasp out. She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing and staring at Ezra’s vacant eyes, ignoring the vibrant mixture of blood as it soaked her hair.

2 troopers grabbed her legs and pulled. She struggled to crawl back, screaming, her hands leaving a trail of red and blue blood, the colours mocking her as she was dragged away from the bodies of her friends.

“NO! NOOO!”

The lights snapped off, concealing the bodies that represented her failure.

* * *

 

She was back in her cell. A recording was put in front of her. Her friends just before entering the base, sheltering under a rock ledge.

“Do we really have to grab Sabine if we see her?” said Kanan. “She’s eating up so much of our income with her stupid painting obsession.”

“She’s not even good at it,” commented Ezra. “And she just pisses us all off with her stupid paintings of everyone.”

“Yes, we do,” replied Hera. “She has some skills that we need for our rebellion. As soon as we no longer need her, we can arrange an… accident.”

“I like your thinking. Plus, if I do manage to win her around, I might be able to bed her before then.”

“As if that’s gonna happen,” laughed Zeb. “She’s so stuck-up and annoying I’m sure she would ruin it before you even got started. Insist on doing some stupid Mandalorian style or something that everyone else just finds fucked up. Or she’ll have a dick.”

“It’d explain a lot,” commented Kanan drily. “Anyway, let’s get inside. We have to rescue our contact. Someone of actual worth, not some stupid teenage girl.”

Kanan and Ezra drew their lightsabers and cut a hole in the wall. They slipped through, shutting it behind them.

The figure watched her fight back her emotions.

“I don’t believe it,” she said finally, mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

“Perhaps you’d like more proof then,” Ezra said, stepping into the room.

She gasped, pulling her hand up to her mouth. “You’re supposed to be dead!” Her horrified brown eyes met his laughing blue ones as he stopped in the centre of the room.

“I faked it of course. Not the others, they were all real. Sneaking onto your ship was quite fun, I have to say,” he smirked, mouth twisting cruelly. “But what caught my attention the most was how disliked you were around the ship. They all found some kind of twisted way to bitch about you behind your back, while keeping up the pretence that they wanted you to be friends with them,” He began strolling from one side of the room to the other, carelessly waiting for her reply.

She choked, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You’re a monster!”

“No ‘Bine. I’m standing by my side like the rebels stand for their side. We both kill each other to win. That’s war.” He stopped just in front of her. “But you, you’re the monster. You instigated a massacre of innocent civilians and killed many yourself. You built weapons to control your own people. And then you betrayed the group you claimed you stood for, betrayed your family and then whined about everyone betraying you. Your family betrayed you because you abandoned them before. You’re the one in the wrong.”

He leaned down, right into her face. “And everyone can tell how moralless and traitorous you are. Monster.”

It hurt less being tortured. She collapsed onto the ground and cried, coiling up into a ball. Ezra’s lips curled contemptuously and he walked out.

“I hope you enjoyed day one,” he said as he left.

She cried until she passed out.

* * *

 

She next woke in her cell, right leg on fire with pain. She screamed and rolled to one side, falling off the metal slab that was supposed to be a bed. Her hand hit the ground at an odd angle and she gave another scream as her hip slipped from its socket, then back in. She stumbled to the door and it opened before she could crash into it, leaving her tripping over her own feet onto the ground. 4 cloaked figures and a droid rushed to her from 2 different directions and tried to hold her down.

“GET OFF ME!” she screamed as she punched and kicked the figures. The smallest one gave a cry of pain and backed off as she connected with its jaw. “Slana'pir!” she yelled in Mandalorian, telling them to get lost, quite rudely.

She punched another in the face, but this one grunted and told her to be still.

“Sabine! It’s us! Stop struggling!”

“You demagolks!” She swore. “You di'kuts!”

“SABINE!” one of them yelled in Hera’s voice. “It’s Hera!”

An electric shock hit her and everything warped into a different form, snapping into a new shape. The figures suddenly became Zeb, Hera and a Kanan with a bloody nose in a clean, white corridor. Chopper stood behind her head, looking down as she surveyed the scene with panic.

She suddenly scrambled backwards into the room, launching herself past Chopper and not stopping until she slammed into the medical bed, blood from open wounds skidding behind her.

“This isn’t real!” she pointed at Hera, pulling her knees up to her chest at the same time. “I saw you die! I felt your blood! This is just another trick, isn’t it?”

Ezra peeked round to look at her, his eyes wide with fright, hands on his own bloody nose.

“And you betrayed us!” she yelled, wild, terrified eyes staring accusingly as she shifted to point at him. “You hid in our crew to get the others to be captured and killed!”

“What?” Ezra exclaimed, releasing his nose in shock. More blood splattered onto the floor.

“You came into my cell after everyone was executed and told me it all. How none of you like me! How I’m just an idiot! How I’m a monster!”

“Sabine,” Ezra couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What they showed you in the prison was a lie! I would never betray you guys! I would die for you!”

“Give me one reason I should believe you,” she snarled, pressing herself against the bed.

“Page 47 of your new diary. There is a Star bird drawn there the same colour as my hair. If you look closely, you can see my name spelt out in small writing at the tip of its left wing. You have a green one for Hera on page 46 and a red one for Kanan two pages before that.”

Sabine stopped shaking, staring at him in a mixture of fear and confusion.

“In your next entry you wrote that if you lost us, you would probably die. I quote you, “I don’t think I could survive without them.””

She looked at him uncertainly, still not believing any of it.

“You went on a mission to find the man who saved you, Janard, not long after Ashoka joined us,” Hera stated, slowly inching her way forward. “You rescued him from a submerged freighter on Quila, but he was shot in the back and died in your arms. Before he died, he told you that the reason he helped you was because he previously turned in other escaping cadets and regretted it, then told you to keep fighting.”

It was like a bucket of iced water to the face and Sabine gasped, looking at them in horror. This was real. She’d hurt her friends. She’d insulted them, called them di'kuts, wastes of space, and demagolks.

 “I’m…” was all she got out before her voice choked off and she began crying, wrapping herself up tight, pulling her legs close to her chest like she did when she was in the Citadel. Her arm in a sling couldn’t quite fit properly and she struggled to get it into position.

Hera and Kanan rushed over to comfort her, wrapping her up in a tight embrace and soothing her. Zeb and chopper went over a few seconds later to do what they could.

Ezra waited for a few seconds longer, then went in to see what he could do to help, only to be stopped by Sabine pointing at him.

“Stay. Away. From. Me,” she spat angrily, voice shaky.

“Sabine, I-”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed at him as several medics rushed in and began checking on her, doing their best to soothe her at the same time.

Ezra plodded back to his room on the Ghost and lay down on his bunk, staring at the wall. Sabine hated him. There was no other way to put it.

_And why shouldn’t she?_ He asked himself morosely, ignoring the trickle of blood that left his nose and inched its way down his face. _I abandoned her when she wanted me to stay. I betrayed her._

_Demagolks_ , she’d called them. Sabine had explained a little about Mandalorian culture before they went to see her family, and that word had come up. It was a word based from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children. He was greatly hated in Mandalorian society and that was why it was one of the worst insults you could give other than calling people a non-Mandalorian.

He’d seen what the Empire had done to her in her nightmare, through the force. She’d woken both him and Kanan, and they’d been able to see the entire thing. She’d been tricked into thinking he was a traitor to them. There was nothing he could do to change what she’d seen and he had sentenced her to that when he left.

The weight of that was crushing him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… yeah. I did not enjoy writing this. It might’ve been necessary, but it wasn’t enjoyable in any way, shape, or form. I hope no one is warded off my story now. I promise, this should be the last graphical torture scene. Just the one. No more. 
> 
> What do you think? Was this too much? Are you now going to not follow the story because of the horrific chapter (please stay.)? I really do want to know what you think about it.   
> As always, kudos to ja54591 for checking my work, and to everyone who has been following my story!
> 
> Q&A: Fanfiction:
> 
> Hyundai the Frieght Train: This chapter was really laid back. It had a few "action" scenes, but mostly a family or friendly talk between a few people. In my opinion a great way to change up the feel to the story while keeping it fun to read. (Laughed a bit too. Liked the subtle Stormtrooper joke.)  
> Me: Thanks! I hope this wasn't too dark.
> 
> Q&A - Archive of our Own:
> 
> Stiletto Ren (Stiletto929): Hah, love the bit where Ezra is trying to pantomime to Hera to find the detonator. I thought he'd have to start groping her, hehe. ;)  
> Me:In all honesty, I had started by writing a piece in which Hera thought he was doing something like that, and it was more awkward because when she did work out what he was doing, it'd turn out that it was in a pocket over her breast XD.  
> But it was quite a forced, and unrealistic scene, so I ditched it.


	10. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P10 - Small Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for the late upload. Busy, busy, busy. As always.  
> Anyway, Q&A (actually me just reacting to comments XD) at the bottom, as normal.  
> Enjoy.

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P10 – Small Steps

* * *

 

Sabine lay back on the bed with a heavy sigh. She’d just been fitted with a brace for her left leg, letting her walk around when she wore it, albeit slowly. It was currently leaning on the side of the bed, where it was easily accessible.

A fait yellow glow emitted from under the door, illuminating the floor panels a few feet away from it. Aside from that, the room was pitch-black. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she didn’t really have much of a choice. She couldn’t just sleep with the lights on 24/7, not that they would’ve stopped her from doing so. She needed to get back to normal though, and she wouldn’t recover by pampering herself.

It’d been a rough day. The others had tried to get her to talk to Ezra, but she’d punched him as soon as he came in range, and proceeded to hurl insults at him until he’d gone.

And then she’d had another flashback.

It was humiliating, she thought, to be powerless to control your own mind. To break down in front of others, some of whom you don’t even know.

She hated it. She hated Ezra for bringing it upon her, even though she didn’t remember much of the incident. But he left her. That was all that mattered to her.

He’d betrayed her.

There was a faint murmur of voices talking just outside the door. Hera, and one of the doctors, their words indiscernible.

The door slid open and a white-robed figure strode in, the light momentarily blinding her. When her eyes adjusted, she got a glimpse of a concerned Hera looking through the doorway, then the doctor got in front of her and placed a cup of water on the table beside the bed.

“Are you ok sweetie?” the nurse asked gently. It was the woman, the one who’d calmed her down on the day of her rescue.

“Yeah,” Sabine said with a nod, not really focusing on the nurse, enveloped in thought.

“Ok. Just push the button if you need me,” the nurse replied, reminding Sabine of the button on the wall that could be used to summon the nurse on duty, as she did every evening.

Sabine got another glimpse out the door, seeing Kanan with a hand on Hera’s shoulder, as Hera looked down, arms crossed.

She knew why Hera was upset. Ever since that night where she’d had the first nightmare, she’d get flashbacks if she had any prolonged contact with the rest of the crew, or even just a few seconds, if it was a bad day. To communicate successfully required someone else she knew to act as an anchor, one that the Empire didn’t use in the Citadel, which meant Wedge, or one of the few other rebels she’d known closely. Most of the time, they were unavailable, on scouting missions or patrols, and so there wasn’t much that could be done.

Sabine sighed as the door clicked shut, plunging her into darkness again.

* * *

 

Sleep didn’t come easily. It never did now; the fear of the nightmares always delayed her, but she did manage to drift off after a couple of hours dreading the nightmares that would undoubtedly come.

Sabine was in a forest of sorts. The trees were large and evenly spaced, as though lining a pathway, and their branches coiled around each other, forming a dense overly of branches and twigs without leaves. They grew around each other, branches twisting slowly, new ones extending off the old ones to make more, but somehow the number of branches never seemed to grow.

And they were silver. Silvery trees, white light shining through the gaps, leaving no shadow. The trees only stretched for 20 meters or so, but as she stepped forward, more began to materialize, jagged, translucent shards flying into place to form a smooth, seamless trunk. The floor was flat and seemingly clean, but somehow also muddy, curving upwards slightly at the base of the tree trunks. A quick glance at her body revealed that she was in her armour, in its normal, colourful condition, albeit a bit muddy and faded. She was the only thing that was dirty. The trees were spotlessly clean.

“Hello there,” a voice said. A familiar voice.

She turned and gasped at what she saw.

Sabine stumbled backwards, away from… herself. She was grinning at her retreating form, laughing as she slipped in the mud.

“Who… who are you?” Sabine demanded from where she lay on the ground, staring in horror at her own mirror image.

The girl, herself, laughed at the question.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she smirked, laying a hand on her hip. “I’m you. Or what you used to be. Before you became weak.”

Sabine spluttered and shook her head, scrambling to her feet.

“I didn’t become weak.”

“Pshh,” her mirror snorted, flicking some colourful hair from her face. “Please. You put your undying trust in some complete strangers and then can’t believe that they don’t like you. Too weak, too needy, too _naïve_ , to realize it.”

She poked herself in the chest.

“And don’t even get me started on that stupid Bridger boy.”

Sabine tried to shove herself back, only to meet empty air. Her double vanished and appeared just outside of Sabine’s reach, arms folded, smirking.

“I’m not weak,” she stated angrily, glaring at the apparition. “I trust them. We have saved each other’s lives more times than you could imagine. They’re my family.”

The other Sabine laughed in pure mirth, bending double and clutching her stomach with one hand while the other slapped her leg.

“Is… is that really what you believe?” she managed to ask between laughs. “That they LOVE you? That they want you around? That they even like you?”

Sabine charged her other, but again met empty air, and crashed to the ground. She leaped up and spun to face her other, who stood there, giggling.

“You could’ve had so much more, if you’d stayed with Ketsu,” she grinned at herself. “The two of you, working for the Black Sun. Is that not what you wanted?”

Sabine swung a punch, but she dodged and stepped aside. The flurry of desperate blows all missed, Sabine being outplayed by herself, fighting an enemy who knew her better than she did, and could not be physically hurt, at least by her.

Suddenly, she was tripped up and landed hard on her back, winding her.

“Idiot,” she smiled down at herself. The trees above twisted and coiled around each other as they grew, silvery light shining through the gaps.

Sabine staggered to her feet.

“I will never give in…” she rasped, wiping some of the mud from her face. It smudged, but the mud on her hand evaporating as it came down.

“Just not our style, is it?”

Sabine shook her head to get rid of some of the blurriness that was present in her vision.

“I will keep fighting you… until I can fight no longer.”

The other stepped forward and scolded her gently.

“Don’t be stupid. You can’t fight yourself. I know your thoughts and actions before they materialise in what little of a brain you have left.”

She stepped towards her exhausted other, until they were basically nose-to-nose.

“You can’t deny yourself. Once you realize, you will get rid of your ‘family’ and go off, look after yourself for a while.”

Sabine raised her fists and got into a fighting stance, legs planted in the ground, fists raised.

“I will not let you hurt them. Through me or otherwise.”

The other Sabine shoved herself and knocked her off balance.

“You think people can forgive you for what you’ve done?”

The other Sabine seemed to be growing in size, the trees growing taller at the same time.

“You think they actually like you?”

Sabine collapsed onto her knees, head down, hands on the floor.

“They’re just using you for your skills!”

“No…” Sabine gasped under her breath, shaking slightly.

“They will get rid of you as soon as you’re of no use.”

Sabine pressed her head to the floor and planted her hands over her ears as though it could block out the sound.

“T-they… won’t,” Sabine cried, unable to believe her own words.

“You really believe that!?”

“Yes…”

“WE BOTH KNOW THE TRUTH!” her other self screamed at the figure collapsed in front of her. “YOU ARE AN OBJECT TO THEM! DISPOSABLE! WAKE UP SABINE!

NO ONE LOVES YOU!

NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU!

NO ONE WILL EVER FORGIVE YOU!”

“no…”

“GIVE UP AND LET ME FINISH THIS!”

 _Finish this…_ her mind echoed. Images flashed.

The bodies lined up by the road

_Finish this…_

The Imperial banner flying above Mandalore

_Finish this…_

A planet’s surface enveloped in fire.

_Finish this…_

Thousands of faceless beings staring at her, condoning her for her crimes.

_FINISH THIS!_

Her other stood before her, faceless and lifeless as the others.

Sabine lunged forward and swung with all her strength, a desperate war cry ripping from her throat.

Everything went black.

* * *

 

Sabine woke with a gasp, bathed in sweat. She was in the medical room, staring at the ceiling. The air was sharp against her skin and she shuddered as she recalled what had happened, feeling weak within her core.

That nightmare had been different, and she didn’t know what it meant. She wondered if she could be directing her pent-up anger, and fear, at her friends without knowing it.

“Sabine, are you OK?” asked a voice.

It was Hera, waiting outside the door.

“I’m fine,” Sabine replied quietly.

“Are you sure? It’s the middle of the night.”

There was a sigh when Sabine didn’t answer.

Hera turned to leave, but a whoosh stopped her. A door had opened behind her and she turned to see Sabine in the frame, head down, shoulders slumped. The light from the star coming through the skylight illuminated Sabine, her uninjured arm clasping the other defensively.

“What happened?” Hera asked, concerned. She put a pair of gentle hands on Sabine’s shoulders, looking into the teen’s face, searching for an answer, and a way to help.

“Hera, please answer honestly,” Sabine said, avoiding Hera’s question.

She looked at the Twi’lek sadly, the light revealing the red eyes and downturned mouth.

“Do you like me? Even after everything that’s happened?”

Hera didn’t reply immediately, taken aback by the question.

Sabine lowered her head. “I understand.”

“Sabine, you are family to me. Of course I do,” replied Hera.

The woman took her hand off Sabine’s shoulder and gently pulled Sabine’s chin up so that their eyes met.

"Sabine Wren, we all love you. Don't ever tell yourself otherwise."

Sabine nodded slowly, eyes flickering to the floor and back up, as the light from the star dissipated, obscured by an asteroid or some such blocking the light, plunging the corridor into darkness and leaving them illuminated by the soft, blue floor lights.

"What made you think that we didn't?" Hera asked cautiously, removing her hands from her shoulders.

"I don't know," Sabine replied hesitantly, biting her lip as she thought. "I… it just seemed that, after all that'd happened… and how much of a burden I'm being…"

"You're not a burden, Sabine," Hera comforted, leaning forward and staring into Sabine's eyes, daring her to disagree, in the kindest way possible.

"But when I was imprisoned," Sabine responded uncertainly. "I thought you guys betrayed me. When I was lying on the ground and crying in pain…"

A memory flickered in her mind and she hesitated, a sudden surge of emotion threatening to rise up and come crashing down on their conversation. The dark, gloomy corridor, lights off for purposes of sleep, did nothing to help the atmosphere.

"I gave up on you. I didn't care if you guys were alive or dead. I just wanted to be free."

Hera's eyes widened slightly as she processed what'd just been said, then pulled Sabine into an embrace.

"I understand," she said simply, voice reassuring and strong.

There was no way for Hera to have known that information beforehand, yet she accepted it in her stride, and Sabine couldn't help but be grateful for her understanding.

"You might've given up on us Sabine," Hera stated, gently easing out of the embrace. "But you never gave up on yourself."

"How do I know that? When all I wanted was for the pain to stop?" Sabine folded her arms and shivered, looking down as memories of the days spent in the Citadel, and the room she had grown all-too familiar with, echoing in her mind. Even the darkened corridor here reminded her of the sinister passages of the Citadel, and a flicker of fear stabbed at her mind, a question.

Was this real? Or was this just another well-constructed lie, designed to crush her even more?

"If you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Hera's calm, reassuring voice cut through the darkness the plagued Sabine's mind. "If you'd given up, the Empire would know where we are, and we'd all be dead. You'd either been executed for treason against the Empire, or brainwashed to become a servant of evil. The fact that you can talk with me now, proves that you were strong enough to survive. And maybe now you'll be stronger because of it."

Sabine gave a small smile and relaxed, the tension easing from her body in an emotional catharsis.

"Thank you, Hera," the smile broadened as Hera returned it and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, guiding her back to her room. The light began to fade back, illuminating the hallway and chasing away the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed that.  
> I apologize again for the long wait and maybe less descriptive / enthusiastic end section. I've been unbelievably busy recently. I will upload the next chapter in TWO weeks, because I haven't written much on the next chapter, and will be out of contact that entire weekend, so I'll be unable to upload.  
> On another note, how many of you know Knights of the Old Republic? I'm tempted to do a story on that sometime, because there is so much potential. Let me know what you think of both that idea and this story. Did you like this chapter? I want to hear about it.
> 
> Again, shout out to ja54591 for continuously checking my work even though he doesn't have to! Check out his page, he's a great writer.
> 
> Q&A: Fanfiction
> 
> Nathan: Hi, I just wanted to let you know that cortosis is a metal impervious to lightsabers, and some varieties could disable lightsabers with their strange magnetic field, which destabilized the magnetic field that kept lightsabers from extending infinitely. This could cause the lightsaber to shoot bursts of flames and possibly explode.  
> Me: I know :) That's my I chose it.
> 
> SkytanDemigod15: Plz I now you havent updated this story in a while but i really want to know what happens next please keep going at least one more chapter plz! :)  
> Me: I Every 1-2 weeks! I will keep updating until the story ends or no one supports it.
> 
> RebelStarbirdPadawan: This chapter was good even with the graphic torture. I was kind of confused the second time Sabine saw the rest of the crew and I wasn't sure if they were real or not. Overall it was good even though I was hoping for more of Sabine's interactions with the crew. Can't wait for the next update  
> Me: The time where she was 'rescued' and saw the others killed was not real, but in her mind, while the bit with Ezra in the cell was real, but it wasn't Ezra. The bit where she was in the hospital bit was real, and she did tell Ezra to bugger off (as most would've done)
> 
> Sleepless-Actual: You gotta gotta gotta gotta keep going please!  
> Me: YES!
> 
> Dustyspartan32: This chapter was really good. I feel so sorry for Sabine. She's gone through absolute hell from the constant nightmares. I can understand why she hates Ezra so much. She's in this mess because of him and I doubt she'll forgive him anytime soon.  
> Me: I feel so guilty for doing this to her as well :/ I have plans though. What they are, you'll have to wait and watch them unfold.
> 
> Your fan: I do say this is one fine chapter, I love the sweet smell of drama that is flowing around in your story, do keep up the good work, and now that you have made me "Hooked on to the story" I think thats how they say it? It would be nice of you if you could drop another chapter tomorrow or the day after, and mabe add a little sabine trying to kill ezra, It would give the drama a little spice, a little ummpfh. But like I said before I am hooked and would like to see a continuation of this very great story, I can see the workings of a writer in you.  
> Me: As much as I'd love to, I can only upload at least once a week (but the next one will be in 2 weeks, unfortunately, because I'll be away. However, things will happen between them. Maybe good, maybe bad.  
> And thanks so much for the compliments :) I do appreciate them.
> 
> L1B1TR0N: I am loving this. I think that how you showed how Sabine is broken was amazing. You did a really good job on this chapter.  
> Me: Glad you like it :) I was honestly very worried about this when I first posted it, because I was worried it'd be too extreme, but I'm glad it wasn't for you.
> 
> Q&A: Archive of Our Own.
> 
> EyeLoch: well gosh, this part was enjoyably dark! I look forward to Sabine healing from this trauma.  
> Me: *Cackles evilly* I agree. I have some (in my opinion) great ideas for their re-union.
> 
> Stiletto Ren (Stiletto929): Poor Sabine - and Ezra!!! The Empire has some effective interrogation techniques!!!  
> Me: IKR. I can't wait to get onto the next bit!


	11. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P11 - Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how do I explain how this was a week late?  
> I had no wifi the first weekend (and I said it would be 2 weeks), and I was so goddamn busy the next weekend. I might've been able to find work-arounds, but honestly, I was just completely whacked.  
> Anyway, Enjoy this (late) piece, which is also probably a bit on the short side.  
> And the Q&A / My responses to reviews is at the bottom, as always.

Star Wars Rebels – Shattering P11 – Reflections.

* * *

 

 _"Sabine, please,"_ Ezra's voice echoed in her mind. _"If you would just let me…"_

She recalled her own, insult-laden reply with a slight stab of guilt. Her reply was uncalled for, and probably cut deeper into him than she might've intended. She'd always responded with hostility, regardless of what he did, to the point where she suspected he would've thrown himself at her feet to get her to listen.

 _He deserves it,_ she told herself. _He abandoned you. He got you captured, got you tortured until you couldn't tell what was true and what was a lie._

But what if he hadn't? What if she was simply confused, and it wasn't his fault?

_What if…_

_No,_ she stopped herself. She couldn't go there. Not after what happened. He needed to pay.

_For what?_

A clang brought her back to the present, freeing her from the confines of her mind. Two mechanics walked past, struggling to move a large crate of machinery to a nearby A-wing undergoing a retrofit.

Sabine was leaning against a crate, arms folded, watching Zeb fiddle around with some wires on top of the Ghost, Chopper there to assist him.

She breathed in. The sharp burn of Cordite. The heavy stench of oil. Sweat. Steam. Smells she was familiar with. Smells she could trust. They gave her a sense of realism, and in this way secured her to reality, pushing away the memories which were always there, lingering on the edge of her mind.

The cell, by contrast, had always been odourless - until they began the torture. Then, all she'd be able to smell was the drugs they'd used on her.

And the blood.

They were in the main hanger, looking out over the mostly-fixed hull of the Hermes. Mechanics wrangled with the fighters parked in the launch bay, checking the fuel, fixing tears in the hull. In one instance, completely dismantling the craft, for some reason unbeknownst to her.

"Ah, Karabast!" Zeb swore as something sparked and he yanked his hand away to Chopper's laughs. "Shut up Chop."

Sabine quirked a smile as she watched the pair bicker on top of the Ghost.

"And why are you grinning?" Zeb looked at her and raised an annoyed eyebrow. "I don't see you helping."

She pushed off from the crates and reached the ladder up without much difficulty, only to be stopped by Zeb looking down at her from the top.

"I was only joking," he stated as she began climbing up the ladder as best she could, hand slipping slightly on the grease as she pulled herself up with just her good hand. "You shouldn't be doing this."

"Nonsense," she huffed as she hauled herself on top with some difficulty, ignoring Zeb's offered paw. "I need the exercise. I've spent too long cooped up in the ward."

"Well, I'm going to need a little help with the wiring of the short-wave comms," he ducked his head back into the access port he'd opened. "Hydrospanner."

She gave him the Hydrospanner, and he grunted a thanks, busy dismantling something. He tossed a chunk of machinery up and Sabine managed to wrap her hand around it before it could fall back down.

"Glad to see that your catching skills are up-to-speed," he grinned to himself as he pried at a panel behind where the machinery had been. 

"What are you doing?" Sabine inquired after a minute of him working away at something outside of her view, putting the small item, what looked like a compressor, to one side.

He grunted. "Trying to re-wire the connection between the power source and the transmitter." He grumbled as he continued to work, apparently without any success. "The short-range transmitter is refusing to connect to the power supply."

"You should let me do that," she leaned down into the hole as well, nudging Zeb out of the way and looking for the wires. They'd all been attached to the wrong points or just left hanging down.

"Zeb, you've connected the green wire to the brown connection point!" she called up, rapidly untying the two wires and connecting them to their respective connection points.

"Oh, right," he said a little sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. "At least I didn't connect them to the torpedo bay."

Sabine huffed a laugh as she replaced the panel and sat up again. "But the transmitter would've self-destructed had we tried to use it with your wiring."

"Ah," he deflated slightly, ears flattening in embarrassment as Sabine grinned.

"Zeb!" a voice called from one side, below the Ghost. The ladder rattled as someone climbed up, worn metal scraping the side of the Ghost. "Hera sent me to…"

Ezra's voice trailed off as he reached the top and saw Sabine sitting there, eyes narrowed. His eyes slipped from her face and to his smudged hands that gripped the uppermost rung.

There was a frosty silence as Sabine glowered at Ezra, who did his best to avoid her gaze. Zeb looked on quietly, waiting to see what would happen.

"Ah, what did Hera want, Ezra?" Zeb inquired with a cautious go ahead gesture, feeling quite out-of-place, uncertain of what Sabine and Ezra would do.

"She wanted me to see if you needed any help," he focused on Zeb with an unnerving intensity, glad to be given something to focus on and avoid Sabine's steely gaze.

Zeb shot Sabine a glance as she crossed her arms, "I'm fine, thanks. Sabine's helping me."

Ezra hesitated, then nodded, looking down as he climbed back to tell Hera.

"Wait," Sabine's voice cracked across the air like a whip. It wasn't a request, but a demand. Ezra halted instantly, looking up at her face.

The hope in his eyes faded to disappointment as he saw the hard brown eyes stare back.

"Inside the Ghost," Sabine motioned as she got up. "We need to talk."

* * *

 

Ezra slid down the ladder, and Sabine followed suite, slapping away his proffered hand with a huff. They walked into the Ghost's cargo bay, where Sabine stopped Ezra with an outstretched hand. The lights were off and the darkness seemed to have a physical weight to it, despite the light streaming through the bay doors. 

"Talk," Sabine practically ordered as she spun around to face Ezra. "Now."

He hesitated, faltering under her gaze and staring at the floor. "About what?"

"Don't play fool with me," she hissed, folding her arms with a glare. "You know what."

She spat the last word and Ezra flinched at the anger behind it.

"Look, Sabine, I didn't want to leave you," he began, rubbing his shoulder nervously. "I had no choice."

She made no reply, but just continued to stand there, arms crossed, looking at him cynically. The light threw a band across Sabine's chest, seeming to mock his pitiful efforts to apologize as it highlight the area in which she was stabbed.

"There were Imperials coming, and if I didn't leave, we would all be in the same position as you were," Ezra continued, opening his arms wide, honest, open eyes now staring into Sabine's.

A sudden pang of pain in her leg forced Sabine to lean against the wall, and she scowled harder to hide the fact, unwilling to reveal any weakness. The light was still lying across the injury though, and the image of a bloodied Sabine lying on the ground kept on forcing its way back into his head. He found his eyes drawn to it, until he blinked and looked away at her eyes. The cold, unforgiving eyes that he'd been accustomed to seeing on her.

Except this time they had a flicker of doubt in them. 

"I don't believe you," she snarled, but the anger that had previously been so strong in her voice was suddenly lacking. The venom was gone, and her response came out as little more than a mutter.

Something prodded her mind.

"Sabine, do you remember what happened then?" Ezra's eyes bored into hers and she knew that, whatever she told herself, he was right.

It hit like a ton of bricks, and she caught herself before she could collapse in shock at the realization.

 _I don't know,_ came the whisper from her mind.

The memory came rushing back with the force of a rampaging bantha. She remembered Ezra looking down over her, eyes filled with shock and worry. A Stormtrooper off to one side, hand on Ezra's shoulder. And the pain. The memory of that rocked her to her core.

But the memory felt… off. Incomplete. Ezra was right; she didn't remember what had happened. Only part of it.

"You don't remember, do you?" Ezra stated more than asked, raising an eyebrow.

 _That son of a…_ her thought trailed off. _He knows me too well._

"I don't believe you," she croaked, dragging her gaze away from him and to the floor. Their roles were reversed now; Ezra was the one asking questions and she was the one trying to avoid the piercing gaze.

"Sabine…" Ezra approached slowly, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. "Let me fill in the blanks. Let me help you."

"No." The word came out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she found herself shoving Ezra away with as much force as she could muster. "Stay away from me!" she yelled, a messy ball of fear and sadness that Zeb could hear from well outside the craft.

Ezra's eyes flickered in surprise, with a visible underlay of pain, as he turned and left the Ghost, brushing past Zeb, who was coming in.

"Sabine, what happened?" he asked, glancing back at Ezra's departing form as Sabine left out a shaky breath.

"Nothing," Sabine pushed off the wall and feigned disinterest, wishing that she could be left in peace.

"Sabine," Zeb said firmly, walking over to her even as she turned away from him. "Stop fighting it. You'll have to talk eventually, and it'll hurt more the longer you leave it."

"No, it won't," she spat, folding her arms in anger, focusing on him instead of dwelling on the painful memories that fought to occupy her thoughts.

He placed a gentle but strong hand on her shoulder and turned her so they were facing each other.

"You are blaming him for what happened without knowing exactly what happened."

"I know enough," she shrugged his hand off and turned away again.

"You don't know what he went through," he continued despite her attempt at ending the conversation. "You know as well as I do that you're using Ezra as a way to deal with the pain, because you're worried about what will happen if you have nothing to direct yourself against."

"You wouldn't know what the pain's like," she snarled, jabbing a furious finger in Zeb's chest to provoke him, now desperate to stop him pushing her towards accepting that fact.

A step at the ramp caught their attention and Zeb's retort died in his throat at the sight of Kanan calmly standing beneath them, arms folded behind his back.

"Zeb's right," Kanan said as he paced up the ramp towards them. "You don't want to think about what happened, and so to stop yourself from doing so, you're doing the easy thing and blaming Ezra for everything."

"That's not true," she leaned against the side of the bay and crossed her arms in annoyance.

"You're scared. And you're directing that fear outwards as anger, at Ezra," he didn't stop staring at her despite her annoyance. Zeb stood to one side silently, still fuming at Sabine's insult.

Sabine sighed. He did have a point.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll be nice to Ezra."

"It's not a matter of being nice," Kanan's milky white eyes seemed to burn into hers and she hung her head. "It's a matter of talking to him and getting over your feelings about what happened. That's the only way you'll ever truly recover."

Sabine nodded and stepped down the ramp, making her way off the ship.

Zeb made a move to go after her, but Kanan stuck out an arm to stop him.

"We shouldn't interfere with this," he stated, calmly watching her leave. "What happens next is in their hands.

A beep on Kanan's wrist pad alerted him to a message. A summon to the briefing room, for a meeting on their latest mission.

The target's name was…

_Scarellia._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of that? I do listen to you guys, which is why you had the talk between Sabine and Ezra, because it was originally just her with Zeb and Chopper trying to get her to talk to Ezra, but I decided that she could act on her own initiative.  
> I apologize if it wasn't quite what you expected, but I do try.  
> I dropped a not-so-stuble-more-like-blindingly-obvious hint about the next location; a completely made-up planet. More info later.  
> Shoutout to ja54591 for helping me check the piece even though he'd been extremely busy, and to Moomkin over on fanfiction, for doing the same while ja54591 was unavailable. Can't go wrong with 2 talented writers checking it, am I right?
> 
> On to the reviews and my responses (Do you guys prefer the comments at the bottom, or would they be better at the top?):
> 
> Fanfiction:
> 
> Sleepless-actual: Ohhhhhhhhhmilaaaaaawwwwd this is so good, this fanfic might be the replacement to Flaming Rebellion seeing as it finished. And I like the idea an old republic fic. Oh could you do more between Ezra and Sabine next chapter, I really want to see how they sorry out their status. Keep up the amazing work.  
> Me: Thanks :) I hope you liked this piece. I am thinking on the Old Republic idea, but other than a single 2k word piece involving the Shadow of Revan, I haven't gotten anything. Not even a storyline aside from what I've already written, which is mostly a lightsaber fight.
> 
> HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII: Can you maybe do a chapter of Ezra trying to deal with the pain of Sabine hating him. Honestly I would like to see that please. Thanks! Great work by the way I love this series so far.  
> Me: HI HIIIIIIIIIIIIII, yeah. I was a bit disappointed with myself for not wrangling it in here, but I can fit it in the next chapter. 
> 
> Sleepless-actual: When will it be 2 weeks already?  
> Me: Ahhhh, I get guilty every time I see this comment. I was supposed to update it then, but, you know, life got in the way. I hope the piece is of a better quality as a result
> 
> No Archive of our own comments? Aw...


	12. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P12 - Scarellia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The need-to-know on the planet Scarellia, as well as a little surprise at the end.

Star Wars Rebels – Shattering P12 – Scarellia

* * *

 

The swirl of patterns was hypnotic, and Ezra stared at the colourful display while the rebel commanders argued about things that he really didn’t care for.

They were in the command centre of the rebel space station, waiting for a high-ranking rebel commander to start the presentation for their next mission. Other important figures stood around the table, debating points of interest, or observing the others, keeping themselves distanced from whatever inter-rebel politics might be going on.

He ignored it all, letting himself sink into the relaxing flows of lines and curves that made up the holographic representation of their star system. It stopped him from focusing on the guilt gnawing at his stomach. His apology had been pathetic.

_I should’ve thought of a better apology_ , he scolded himself. _Instead of saying something so simple and stupid._

What was worse was that Sabine had rejected his help, rejected the chance to know the truth.

_Why wouldn’t she?_ She no longer trusted him, maybe even trusted him less than when he’d first arrived.

There was a rap on the table, snapping Ezra’s attention away from the display and his thoughts, silencing the rebels around the room.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, sit down,” announced the gravelly voice.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Zeb as he sat down next to Ezra. “Admiral Ackbar himself.”

Admiral Ackbar stood tall at the holocontrols, observing the rebels scattered around the room as they came together and sat down, picking up the datapads from the seats as they did so.

Outside, the Home One was silhouetted by the star they orbited, a huge warship that made the Ghost look like a minnow. It wasn’t just able to go toe-to-toe with an Star Destroyer; it was far superior to almost every single one that the Imperials could throw at them, and the admiral was already famous for his masterful directing of his rebel fleet.

“Our agents have located a target of opportunity for us to strike a crippling blow to the Empire,” the admiral started, tapping a button on the table and changing the view to that of a vibrant multi-coloured planet, with a single, huge continent in the centre, surrounded by ocean and a few smaller continents, if they could even be considered such.

Ezra looked at the datapad he held and began scrolling through the information provided, paying half attention to the Admiral’s briefing.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Imperial-controlled Planet: Scarellia. Lenthos system, sector 14a. Planet mostly ocean, with a Pangea continent containing the 4 major powers, and 3 smaller ones containing the 5 small democracies and the one socialist country. Nearby planet Clyriga shares similar properties, but has a single country occupying all of the smaller ones and some of the mainland.  
  
\- The Imperials have direct control over the Vierra territory. Previous controller was _Sin-Lau-Fe_ , semi-democratic dictator (N.B. members of govt. Except for him could be elected or voted out). Major city obliterated during initial Imperial invasion, along with majority of the army. Fragile but effective control established over remaining countries quickly. Countries are kept poised against each other.   
\- Azcoth territory ruled by Monarch _Lazo Rihne_. Population extremely loyal, army one of the most powerful on the Planet. (N.B. Protector General Quis effective, but predictable Commander-in-Chief of the army.) The unwavering dedication of the populace to their monarch, while still remaining aware of everything that goes on without being led like sheep, is a galactic rarity, no doubt due to the enigmatic, vibrant and creative Monarch and his own dedication to his people.  
\- Zerthen territory ruled under the iron fist of Dictator Mar Krey. Population loyal through fear, army most powerful after the Empire. (N.B. CIC run by a council of generals. Ace General Frith is a rarity in most armies; honest, effective, inspiring, willing to go in with the troops to the front, and courageous, and this is only exemplified by his peers, who are generally the opposite.).  
\- Territory under Trans-National State (TNS) control lacks a formal name, and is referred to differently across the entire star system. Currently in a state of civil war after a coup replaced the religious hemogony with a dictatorship. Dictatorship has surprising support and a powerful army.  
\- Other nations not worth mentioning. Generally conservative. Offered least resistance to Imperial takeover.

It should be noted that the political situation is particularly volatile here. During the civil war, many of those who had fled the civil war due to the TNS takeover had set up in the Azcoth territory, at which point they began offering very vocal criticism of the Monarch, who refused to aid either side in the conflict, only those who were fleeing (N.B. – Zerthen territory offered verbal support and a ‘show of force’ in favour of the Religious Homogony.) Eventually, they decided to rise up in a coup to overthrow the Royal Family, but they were suppressed by both the Royal Army and the local population, and the TNS found themselves in the awkward position off accepting refugees fleeing the Royal Army, even though those same people had fled from them just a year prior.

As well as this, three of the democracies have made hints towards a union of sorts, and border tensions with the Socialist country nearby have flared up recently, prompting the Empire to redeploy a Division to prevent a war. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

“We’ve discovered that the Garrison has settled down and is estimated to be weak and undisciplined,” Ezra heard as he finished reading the planetary data. “Its governor is also unpopular, and the people have expressed a desire to rebel against the Empire.”

The door slid open behind them and Ezra glanced back to see who’d entered.

His breath caught in his throat for a second, and then he tore his eyes away from Sabine and looked back at his datapad, doing his best to remain calm. A quick glance around the table revealed that the only spare seat was next to him, and he heard the chair scrape the floor next to him as she sat down.

“What’d I miss?” she whispered to him quietly, much to his surprise. She was tense, unsure of what she was doing, but for once, not openly hostile.

There was still some uneasiness there though. She leaned away slightly, and her voice was controlled, showing no emotion.

He shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance as he replied. “Just the basics. Nothing important.”

She nodded, her face passive and controlled, like her voice. Era noticed her swallow silently, and her eyes flickered around the room, before resting on the Admiral.

“It has a single stronghold in the centre of the Vierra sector,” Ackbar continued, ignoring the disruption. “That will be where we must focus our efforts.”

One of the commanders, a Bothan, raised his hand. “How will we get a large enough force on the ground to be able to attack the base?”

“We won’t,” the Admiral replied confidently, slowly blinking his giant fish eyes. “We can only get a small strike team to the ground.”

“We hope to get the nations on the planet to cooperate with us,” Hera continued, leaning against the table. “This would grant us access to all of the armies they have, and not even the Empire would be able to supress a planet-wide uprising, at least with the forces they have there now.”

“And then we bring in the fleet,” another rebel continued, standing up to address the room. “we will crush the Imperial fleet while they are looking at the ground and liberate the planet. We hope to solidify the political situation with the burning wreckage of Imperial ships.”

“I leave it to Commander Hera Syndulla and Captain Rogas to discuss the infiltration,” the Admiral stepped back and Hera gave him a polite nod as she took over the holotable controls.

“We will take Striker and Phoenix squadrons and enter orbit of Clyriga,” she started, tapping the panel to bring up the lush, vibrant main continent, complete with Imperial blockade force and space stations. “Where Captain Rogas will lead his team down to the surface,” she gestured to the Bothan who’d spoken up before, getting a nod in return.

The view shifted from Clyriga to the much duller Scarellia, central desert sticking out from all the surrounding green, with no apparent landmarks of notice over the entire continent.

“I will lead the second team down onto the surface of Scarellia” Hera continued, gesturing to a specific point on the map, just of the western coast of the continent. “We will use the same infiltration method for both insertions, and then meet up with our contacts on the ground.”

A schematic took over the display. A narrow, angular ship with a retrofitted cargo space that could take 20 people.

“We’ve manage to acquire several specialised smuggling ships for this operation, and retrofit them for the mission.”

“Isn’t that too risky?” a voice asked from the table. “Smuggling ships don’t exactly have the best track record for performance, and I don’t mean to insult the skills of any of our mechanics, but can we be sure the hull is airtight?” She pointed at the display. “The retrofitted walls look like they’re about to fall off.”

“That’s the point Sargent,” Captain Rogas stated from where he was sat in his seat. “We’re going to need to reach the water to be able to infiltrate. I’ll let the commander explain,” he deferred to Hera, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

“We can’t escape them in the air, and, as many have found out the hard way, the Imperials around this planet have been particularly good at shooting down smuggling craft. It’s a fifty-fifty chance that we’d be destroyed within minutes of landing on the surface, so we require a new approach.”

Hera changed the display again, showing a flight plan that terminated in the shallow water near one of the red-orange cliffs that seemed to form the entire western coastline.

“To get us there safely, we’re going to have to improvise,” Hera quirked a smile at that last word, while the other rebels around the table murmured as they considered the plan. “So we’re going to fool the Imperials into thinking that they shot us down in the ocean, then fool whatever scanners they will send after us.”

She brought up the schematic again, tapping a couple of buttons. The oversized, misshapen walls flashed a couple of times as she continued.

“We’re going to eject some extra stuff to make them think they hit us,” Hera continued, now playing what would happen as they travelled through the atmosphere. Their hologram ship flashed suddenly, and little pieces flew off as it spun downwards, seemingly out of control.

“What about pressure sensors?” Sabine asked, gesturing to the Imperial probe model that was quietly spinning off to one side of the main display. “If they send one of those down, it’ll be able to detect the pressure difference between the ship and the ocean.”

“That’s why the walls look like they’re about to fall off,” Hera grinned. “As soon as we hit the water, everyone will put on oxygen masks and I’ll flood the ship with water.”

There were several surprised mumbles and Hera waited for a few seconds before quieting them with a wave of her hand.

“Any questions?”

“Permission to go on the mission,” Sabine requested before Hera had finished.

“Denied,” Hera said firmly, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Hera…”

“Denied,” Hera said flatly, voice brooking no argument, and Sabine slouched in her chair crossly, folding her arms. “Any questions?”

There were many, and they dragged on for several minutes, while Sabine sat slumped in her chair, fuming at Hera’s refusal to let her go on the mission.

“You can’t blame Hera,” Ezra said quietly, looking over at Sabine. “She’s only trying to help you-”

“And you’d know all about _helping_ me,” Sabine cut him off with a sarcastic comment, rolling her eyes and dropping her head onto the back of the chair.

She sighed. “Sorry. That was… uncalled for.”

Her voice was again neutral, and she lifted her head off the seat.

“No, I deserve it,” he leaned against the holotable, hanging his head when she didn’t reply. A brief glance at Sabine revealed the emotions that were playing across her face. To those who didn’t know her, the subtle signs that Ezra could see were invisible, and she could’ve passed it off as simple boredom to most people.

“You don’t really want to speak to me, do you?” Ezra asked quietly so Zeb couldn’t hear.

She rolled her eyes as though it should’ve been obvious, then frowned.

“Are you looking inside my mind?” She probed, annoyed at how quickly Ezra had deduced the fact.

Ezra sighed, crossing his own arms defensively. “Sabine, that’s not how the force works. You know it.”

“Yeah, you can only ‘see people’s feelings’ or whatever,” she grumbled sullenly, glaring at the floor. “And you can see people through the force.”

_That’s not exactly true either_ , Ezra thought to himself, but he didn’t say anything.

“Why are you forcing yourself to speak to me?” The question was blunt, and to the point.

“That’s not true,” she began, looking up at Ezra to see if he bought it. He just raised an eyebrow, arms still folded.

“Fine. Kanan and Zeb were breathing down my back for how I treated you earlier. Happy?”

Ezra shook his head, but made no reply.

_That hurt._

Sabine huffed something that sounded like a sorry, and turned away to look at Home One out the station’s viewscreen.

“Don’t apologize,” Ezra bit his lip as he said it. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”

_That came out too defensive._

“Good. Because I don’t either.” She spun around to face him, doing her best to control the anger in her voice. “I blame you.”

Ezra hung his head at the expression on her face and the bitterness in her statement, then started to form a reply.

But she was gone. The meeting was over; people were starting to pack up, so Ezra got up and trudged to his room on the station.

* * *

 

His lightsaber. A blaster. A few other bits and pieces that he needed or might need.

And the darksaber.

_Huh. I didn’t leave that there._

He dismissed his curiosity as he strapped it onto his belt as well, his room automatically locking behind him the instant he left.

There were rebels making their way to the hanger, and Ezra quietly let himself be assimilated into their ranks.

He could hear Hera’s voice as he approached the Ghost. She was standing on some crates, speaking to the rebels that would make up their strike team.

“Okay, but before we board the Ghost, I swear that I will throw anyone who tries to smuggle a rocket launcher with them out of the airlock.”

There were several chuckles as the soldiers boarded the Ghost and sat in the cargo bay, while the rest of the Ghost crew went up to the cockpit.

Ezra trudged on board and climbed the ladder up, ignoring the comforting feel of the ship, the familiar smells and shapes. Light shone through the open turret hatch above as the ship rumbled out of the hanger, illuminating the ladder and casting rigid patterns on the floor.

The door opened with a whoosh, and he sat himself down, folding his arms and doing his best to hide his feelings from his face.

“You alright Ezra?” Hera asked, glancing over to him as she navigated to the head of Phoenix and Striker squadrons.

He shrugged and mumbled a yes, instead looking over their fleet.

It was huge, for the rebellion at least. There were 2 large capital ships, one on either side of _Home One_ , a Liberty-class called the _Liberty_ , and an MC-80, the _Exemption_ , and they were surrounded by CR90s and various support ships, ranging from Bulk cruisers to Nebulon B-2s and even a refitted Dreadnought, one of the most resilient ship models in the galaxy.

They were passing the Hermes when the rest of Phoenix and Striker formed up around them, and they drifted to a position 2km from the main rebel fleet.

“What’s that?” Zeb asked, pointing to something drawn on the hull of the _Hermes._

The Hermes rotated into view and reveal a large, red crosshair painted over where the ship had previously been gutted.

“I don’t recall authorizing that,” Hera said matter-of-factly, and Ezra sneaked a grin. _Officially, that is._

Hera tapped some buttons and the ship drifted to a halt.

She frowned and stood to reach a dial at the top of the craft.

“What’s wrong?” Kanan asked straight away, leaning forward to get a better view of the fleet.

Hera cursed in Twi’lek, and opened a comm to the Admiral.

“Admiral, I’ve got unidentified hyperspace contacts,” she reported with worry, biting her lower lip as she examined the scanner reports.

The Admiral was ignoring her, instead looking at his crew, away from the camera.

“What’s going on?” The Admiral demanded to know as the bridge klaxons began blaring out.

“Admiral!” a bridge member cried. “Imperial contacts!”

The admiral's eyes widened.

“It’s a trap!”

3 Star Destroyers warped into the system not far from the rebel fleet, fighters spewing from the hangers of 2 of them, while the third… the third lacked a hanger.

_Shit,_ Ezra thought. _A Tector. Just what we needed._

“Phoenix and Striker squadrons are dark,” Hera commented as she powered down all the ship’s systems, along with the rest of her command. Being the farthest from the main fleet, they were least likely to have been detected, and with their attention elsewhere, the Imperials might pass them by.

“Anyone get an ID on those ships?” Striker One asked over the short-range radio, the only thing not powered down.

“Let me check,” Hera activated a single console and ran through the readings taken before they’d powered down. “Okay, I have the _Ironclad,_ a Tector-class Star Destroyer, the _Milestone_ , a modified Star Destroyer, although these modifications aren’t known to us, and the…”

Her voice trailed off, the concern practically visible as it hit its final note.

“The _Chimera._ ”

Ezra shot Zeb a confused glance, getting a shoulder-shrug and similar confusion in return.

“What’s so important about the _Chimera_?” Ezra asked. When she didn’t reply immediately, he asked again, more desperate this time. “What does that mean?”

Her head shot up and she practically snarled the name.

“Thrawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you guys think of that? Little bit of Sabine and Ezra alongside the mess known as Scarellia. You'll learn more about it later.  
> The political situation is partly based off real life. The TNS is, in essence, Israel, and Azcoth is Jordan, and what happened here is the barebones of what happened in real life. The Palestinians fled into Jordan, where they began protesting that the King wasn’t doing enough to stop Israel, and tried to initiate a coup. They were suppressed and Israel ended up in the awkward position of having to take in Palestinians fleeing Jordan.  
> Life is weird, isn't it?  
> There are a few references in this one. There is the Star Wars: Battlefront II trailer "That's the point Sargent", the Vierra territory is a territory on the planet Reach from HALO: Reach, and of course, who would I be if I didn't have Ackbar say "It's a trap!" at least once in my stories?
> 
> Anyway, shoutout to ja54591 for reviewing this chapter, even though he's under no obligation to do so, and the next chapter should, unless something happens, be here next Saturday. What time it is depends on the London rail service and how many people are taking the trains. I try to improve the chapters on the train as well, because it takes >1 1/2 hours to get back home sometimes, which is far too long to waste when I could be showing the Imperials as the monolithic force they are supposed to be XD.
> 
>  
> 
> Onto the reviews:  
> Fanfiction:
> 
> Nathan: Hi, U might remember me, I just want to say you're doing great and keep up the good work.  
> Me: Cheers Nathan :) I appreciate the support.
> 
> Specter 7: Nice chapter :) a bit short but interesting. I hope Sabine will finally get over herself and just keep a conversation with Ezra. He doesn't deserve all the icy glares and angry yelling she's been giving the poor boy lately. :_(  
> Me: I know... I'm being evil. But trust takes years to build and seconds to destroy, and Sabine perceives her torture as Ezra's fault, meaning the trust will not re-grow until she changes her mind about that.
> 
> Sleepless-actual: Solid chapter! Great work, and goodluck with life and such! I look forward to the next installment!  
> Me: Thank you for wishing me good luck. I'm just very busy, that's all.
> 
> DustySpartan32: Very good. I like it how Kanan and Zeb know how upset Sabine really is, and that her blaming Ezra isn't going to help her in the long run.  
> Me: Good. That's what I was aiming for in that last chapter, and I hope this one expands the interaction a little bit.
> 
> Again, no comments on Archive of Our Own. What is it over there? Why hast thou forsaken me? ;)  
> Have a nice week everyone.


	13. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P13 - Naval engagement

Star Wars Rebels – Shattering P13 – Naval engagement

 

* * *

 

“All rebel forces, pull out,” the Admiral ordered with a bark, turning his chair so that he faced the Imperial ships, illuminated by the dull-red glow of the star. His eyes narrowed as he studied the ship formation and the weapon systems that were powering up and tracking the rebel fleet.

The first of the rebel ships spun around to face their original hyperspace route and powered up its hyperdrive, slaving the shield generator’s power supply to that of the hyperdrive to boost the charge rate.

That was odd. Thrawn’s flagship, the Chimera, was on the left flank of the Imperial battlegroup rather than in the centre, leaving the Milestone to face the rebel fleet on its own, with just a couple of supporting light cruisers. The Milestone’s guns were not pointing at them though, but a point in front of them.

“All ships, abort the jump!” he shouted, too late to stop the Correllian Corvette from vanishing as it entered hyperspace…

… only to reappear in front of the Milestone just as it fired a barrage of lasers that wiped the shields and melted the hull.

So that was the secret modification; A Star Destroyer with a gravity-well generator.

The Admiral extended a fishy finger to the Star Destroyer now charging towards them, light cruisers in tow. “Order the Liberty to target the Milestone with an Ion barrage. We must disable it before we can escape.”

The Liberty, just to the side of Home One, sprang into action, drifting away from the main fleet and powering up its Ion cannons.

“Admiral!” one of the crew called up to him from his station just below. “The Milestone has deactivated its engines!”

The Chimera and Ironclad vanished suddenly, the Star Destroyers reappearing on either side of the rebel fleet and unleashing a barrage of lasers and concussion torpedoes at the rebel ships in the kill-zone.

“Liberty, protect our left from the Ironclad,” the Admiral rapidly tapped his controls as he delegated the Exemption to deal with the Chimera. “Now, target the Milestone, focus on the generators.”

The ships began a dangerous duel as the Milestone powered into the rebel fleet, guns blazing as its shields, boosted with re-routed engine power, held up to Home One’s barrage of lasers. It’s deflectors shimmering as they absorbed the energy of a dozen lasers, and the Imperial’s own turbolaser batteries responded in kind, pounding the shields of the rebel flagship.

Meanwhile, the Liberty and Ironclad were constantly moving around each other, their captains testing each other more than trying to destroy the other. Their shots, although mostly impacting the opponent, were little more than probes and goads to tempt the other into striking first.

“Has the Milestone charged their generator?” Thrawn asked calmly from the bridge of his warship as his aide, Elie Vanto, walked up behind him.

“It has,” came the reply.

“Good,” Thrawn’s red eyes were fixed on the fight between the Milestone and the rebel forces. It’s shields were failing under Home One’s hammering blows, and even as he watched, several small explosions appeared on the hull, the work of Y-wings firing torpedoes through the shields.

“Activate the generator.”

One the Home One, the admiral’s view suddenly shot upwards as the ship angled away from the Imperial capital ship. Stars winked at him as they began to slow.

“What was that?” he demanded to know as the stars stabilized on the viewscreen.

“Unknown sir! Whatever it is, it’s centered around the Milestone.”

Ackbar’s eyes narrowed as he examined the fleet positions on the holoscreen. The ships on the left were still sparring with each other, while the MC80 had broken off from its engagement with the Chimera, performing a hard burn to turn and face the Imperial ships from behind. The rebel ships around the Milestone had been forced away by what must've been a reverse use of the gravity well generator, splitting the fleet in half and sending Home One drifting upwards, turning it so the engines face the Imperial ship.

“Reverse engines, full power!” the Admiral ordered, hoping that the gravity well generator had been deactivated.

He’d guessed correctly; the Milestone’s lone generator, powerful as it was, had been drained for the brief push that had separated the fleet, and now the Home One’s engines were facing their opponent’s bridge.

“Sir, that’s a collision course!” his nav officer yelled as the massive rebel flagship rumbled down onto the back of the Milestone’s ‘head’.

“I know,” The admiral answered calmly, even as the ship’s engines began to scorch the durasteel hull of the Milestone.

The metal was beginning to warp under the intense heat as Home One’s hull struck the ship. A blackened chunk of molten armor plating was shorn off and the guns began firing into the gap.

Without the armour to protect it, the weaker interior was vulnerable to the lasers that began to tear their way through the ship. The thin interior walls were shredded like paper, and the bridge exploded outwards as a concussion torpedo fired down the corridor broke through the heavy-duty blast doors and detonated inside, sparing the command crew from suffocating in the cold vacuum of space. Glass shattered and spun away from the bridge in an ever-growing arc, shimmering in the light of the fires from the Star Destroyer’s head as lasers began breaking through the other side and then darting off into empty space.

As this was happening, the rebel’s Liberty-class cruiser swung around underneath the Ironclad as it targeted the hanger with its forward batteries. In response the Ironclad turned on its axis so the it’s 4 octuple turbolasers were firing constant streams of fire at the Liberty while denying the rebels access to the hanger. The guns fired milliseconds after each other, going down the line and then restarting from the same start point, never giving the shields a chance to recharge in a constant barrage of green.

4 blindingly white balls of energy erupted from the base of the ‘wings’ of the rebel Liberty-class, each Ion blast draining the shields of the Star Destroyer to the point that they shimmered out of existence and the final Ion bolt squarely impacted the side of the Star Destroyer.

“Hera, we should do something,” Ezra said as the rebel and Imperial ships continue to duke it out not far from them. Part of the Ironclad’s hull went dark as the internal systems were short-circuited.

“We have our orders,” Hera sighed, tapping the console to power up the hyperdrive and communications. “Striker and Phoenix squadrons, prepare for jump to lightspeed.”

Sabine huffed and left, arms folded all the way to her room.

“Preparing for launch in three…” Hera began the countdown as soon as the door hissed shut.

“Two.”

“One.”

The stars on the viewscreen dragged backwards as the Ghost entered hyperspace, and the empty blackness changed to the blue glow of hyperspace.

* * *

 

The crew sat there, watching as the blue tunnel stretched out into the distance.

“I’m going to make some caf,” Hera stated as she stood up. “Want some?” she asked Kanan.

“Yeah,” Kanan nodded, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That would be appreciated.”

He turned to Ezra as the door whisked open for Hera.

“We should meditate in your room,” Kanan pointed his thumb to the door and Ezra got up silently, making his way down the corridor into the room he and Zeb shared, leaving the Lasat to watch the ship with Chopper.

They walked over, entering the darkened room quietly, sitting down in the centre.

Ezra did his best to relax, loosening his tired muscles and closing his eyes. He breathed slowly, trying to force his interaction with Sabine out of his mind, but it would not go away.

“You’re distracted,” Kanan sensed through the force. “Thinking about Sabine?”

Ezra sighed. “Yes. Do you think she’ll ever…”?

“Get back to normal?” Kanan finished the sentence as Ezra trailed off. “Like you again?”

Ezra nodded slowly, remaining silent the entire time.

“I think she will, with time,” Kanan stated after a moment’s thought. “I think she will come to see that she shouldn’t be blaming you for what happened,” he paused to think for a second, then continued. “What happened will stay with her forever, but she’s still Sabine. She will understand that you had no choice.”

Ezra nodded and closed his eyes, focusing on searching the ship with the force.

Below them, the soldiers in the cargo hold were joking and messing around, their moods ranging from exited to tightly-wound nervousness. Hera was in the kitchen, making caf. She was relaxed, even if a little flicker of concern burned amongst her other feelings. Whether that was for the rebel fleet they’d just left or what was happening between Ezra and Sabine, they couldn’t tell.

Zeb was still in the cockpit, relaxed like Hera, most likely watching the ship travel through hyperspace. Chopper was probably with Zeb, and for once he wasn’t annoying the hell out of the Lasat.

Ezra drew in a breath when they got to Sabine.

“You sense it, don’t you?” it was a rhetorical question. They both sensed it.

There was no hate there. Anger, concern, fear, loneliness, sadness. The emotions that she'd been trying to bottle up but still forced their way out at times. They were there, clouding her like a storm.

But there was acceptance. Buried down, deep, deep down, there was acceptance, like a torch in a sea of darkness.

The door whooshed open and Ezra opened his eyes to see Hera standing there with several mugs. He blinked a couple of times in the seemingly-blinding light, letting his eyes adjust as she leaned over.

“I got you some hot chocolate Ezra,” Hera smiled, handing it to the teen, who rapidly wrapped his hands around it, savouring the warmth.

“Thanks Hera,” he said, as he sipped the drink, enjoying the smooth, relaxing effect it provided.

Kanan nodded his thanks as she handed him his, and then she turned around to give a drink to Sabine, the door hissing shut behind her.

“What would we do without Hera?” Ezra said, only half-joking as he had a mouthful.

“I would probably be passed out in a cantina somewhere,” Kanan laughed, taking another drink from the mug. “Which is always preferable to dealing with the rebel politics.”

Ezra sniggered. “And I’d be on Lothal, pinching things from the Empire, waiting for the time I’d be able to steal a crate from a Jedi.”

“Yes,” Kanan huffed a laugh as he recalled Ezra’s stunt when he stole the crates they’d liberated from the Empire. “You were lucky Zeb didn’t catch you there. He was more than a bit irritated by that little stunt.”

“That’s an understatement and a half,” Ezra countered, continuing to drink.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying their drinks and reminiscing on past misadventures. Things seemed desperate at times then, but looking back it seemed to be far brighter than it was now. Even when they were raiding Imperial stockpiles or disrupting the patrols, it always had a direct effect, whether it was handing out food in Tarkintown or watching Minister Tua fume at their latest operation’s success. The Imperials had been less competent, the times more relaxed. When Kanan was more of a gung-ho gunslinger, and Zeb his annoying older roommate. Sabine had been distant, but a figure to admire, while Chopper was the irritating bucket-of-bolts that Hera had forbidden them from tossing out the airlock. Hera remained much the same, caring for the crew throughout their missions, even with her new role as a commander in the Rebel Alliance.

Kanan got up with a sigh, opening the door and heading to the cockpit to talk to Hera, leaving Ezra alone to continue meditating.

Kanan and Hera up in the cockpit with Zeb and most likely Chopper, all of them relaxed as they chatted, whiling away the time until they reached Scarrellia. The soldiers in the hold had settled down somewhat, still in an imperturbable good mood that belied the daunting task they’d be undertaking; just over thirty of them to spark an uprising on a planet of several billion, against the might of the Empire.

Sabine… was outside his door, her force signature jumpy and nervous, but behind it there was a dash of determination, as though she’d made up her mind to do something.

Ezra got up and walked over to the door, which opened with a hiss. Sabine tensed as though she wasn’t expecting the door to open, but she nonetheless stared into Ezra’s eyes, the question already forming on her lips.

“What was it like?”

Ezra blinked, taken aback and initially a little confused, the recognition settling into his eyes as he realised what she was talking about, sadness mixed into the blue eyes as they dropped to the floor.

“Bad,” he replied immediately, looking at his feet as he scuffed the floor with them. “We were the only two left, and the Imperials had reinforcements streaming from the base towards us, with an AT-AT.”

Sabine folded her arms, and Ezra realised she’d changed into a new suit of armour, an imperfect fit to replace the set she’d lost when the whole thing kicked off between them. His eyes were drawn up to hers and he could see that, despite her neutral face, she’d already made a decision.

“You were…” he hesitated to continue, unwilling to go back and remember the day, but making the foray, if he could just get Sabine to listen for a second. “You were dying, Sabine. You were bleeding to death and I did the only reasonable thing I could do.”

He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it and Sabine growled, turning away to go back to her room, but Ezra caught her shoulder and stopped her, even as she cursed at him in Mandalorian.

“It was the most-” he tried to continue, but she tore her shoulder from his grip and stormed into her own room, the door slamming shut behind her.

* * *

 

 

Ezra stood in the hallway, at a loss for what to do. Sabine rejecting him again hurt, even if she’d been the one to initiate the conversation and not him. Deep down, he knew that it was only a matter of time before she accepted it, but the pain of her constant belittling gnawed at him, a fiery itch that’d been left unchecked and was now flaring up.

Ezra knocked on her door tentatively, but she didn’t respond.

The metal was cool and smooth from years of use, and as he waited his mind drifted slightly as he thought about what’d happened to her, his anger cooling and he tried to compose himself.

“If you’re still there Ezra, go away,” Sabine grumbled, but he instead opened the door and walked in to see Sabine turning towards him, mouth opening to formulate a 

“Why?” he cut off her objection with an angry wave of his hand. “Why do you keep doing this?”

Sabine drew back, shocked by how Ezra had barged in and demanded an answer.

“What do you mean?” she snapped back, her anger building as she crossed her arms and glowered at the intruder in her room.

“When you pretend to talk to me,” he began, matching Sabine’s glare with an unwavering gaze equal intensity, albeit of a different kind. “Pretend that you’re willing to talk even though you’ve made up your mind long before you even think to speak to me,” Ezra never looked away from her eyes, staring her down as her scowl deepened. “When you make your snide comments and insulting remarks, did it ever cross your mind that there’s a person on the receiving end, who has feelings too and has to deal with the shit that you give them daily?”

“You abandoned-” she tried to formulate a reply, but she was again cut off by a horizontal chopping motion from Ezra.

“I never, ever wanted to leave you!” he spat, leaning in so close that their noses were millimetres from touching. “I think about what happened every. single. day. It tears me up whenever I remember what happened to you in the prison, and I have to carry that around with me everywhere I go. Every time you insult me or ignore me, it makes it so much worse!”

Sabine bristled in anger, but Ezra continued regardless.

“So please Sabine, either start actually talking to me, or don’t talk to me at all. Because there’s no way for this to work otherwise.”

He backed away, anger and regret burned out of him as he stood turned away from Sabine, arms clasped defensively as he waited for her reply.

“Out,” she hissed, closing the distance between them again with narrowing her eyes.

He looked up at the painting of the six of them on the ceiling, the one she’d made when the times were comparatively good and they weren’t divided by the guilt and anger that’d built up between them over the last few months.

She shoved him when he didn’t respond, still fuming at what was to her an unwarranted and insulting intrusion, even as the prickles of doubt began appearing at the back of her mind.

“OUT!”

* * *

 

He sighed as the door clicked shut behind him as Sabine retreated back into her room. The Ghost was silent aside from the normal metallic groans. The soldiers had stopped joking down in the hold, and he realized that the entire ship must’ve heard them.

He composed himself, then stepped into the cockpit.

Hera sat at the controls, Kanan and Zeb in their usual spots and Chopper charging in the corner. The blue aura of hyperspace pervaded the entire cockpit, and cast mocking shadows along the walls.

“Talk go well?” Hera asked sensitively, with a glance at Ezra as she prepared to drop out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched suddenly, and the stars rushed towards them, snapping into place milliseconds later.

“Yeah, it went fine,” Ezra answered curtly, sitting down in his chair and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

She looked at him in concern, eyes flickering up to Kanan’s as she thought of what to say. Nothing came up, so Hera scrolled through the messages they’d received after dropping out of hyperspace.

The battle had been called off by the Admiral, and the _Liberty_ would be joining them in two days’ time. The rebel base was still hidden, and no serious losses were incurred on the rebel side, while the Empire would have to perform some serious repairs on the _Milestone,_ which included replacing the entire bridge.

Their contacts on the surface were waiting for them to deploy the next day, and arrangements were in place for them to get to the insurrectionist’s camp before dawn broke the day after.

“Phoenix and Striker, sound off,” Hera tapped the comm, activating the long-range scanners to see what was in the system currently.

“Striker One, in here,” came the first of the reports.

Ezra ignored it as he looked at the scan data. Two Star Destroyers in orbit of Scarellia, one at the pole and the other docked to a space station over a moon. There were several civilian ships flying around, mostly either to or from Scarellia, but with a few going to the unnamed moon.

“Okay guys, does anyone remember Scarellia having a moon?” Hera groaned as she saw the scan data. “Because I’m sure that that was not in the briefing.”

There was silence, then Striker one replied in the negative.

“Well, that’s this mission off to a great start,” Sabine said sarcastically as she walked in, sitting down in her seat with a smirk.

The forcibly positive mood was not lost on anyone in the cockpit, and as Hera manoeuvred the Ghost to the head of the fleet again, she looked back at Sabine, slightly confused, but she didn’t pass a comment.

Outside, the rest of their rag-tag mini-fleet congregated around an asteroid, upon which lay their transport, the blackened hull worn and faded, and evidence of several patchwork repairs gave it an air of an old, battered, yet somehow reliable smuggling craft. The engines were larger than a ship of its size would probably need, and the front sharp and pointed, clearly designed for breaking atmosphere.

“Striker Two to Phoenix Lead,” a voice crackled over the comms as Hera manoeuvred into position by the asteroid. “I would recommend docking now, before the Imperials get wind of our presence.”

“Agreed,” Hera replied, carefully aligning the airlocks on the two ships, status lights flashing green as they magnetised, the clamps clicking together and sealing with a thud. She clicked open the comm. “We’re docked. Get yourselves strapped in and ready to go. We don’t have long before our entry window passes by.”

Kanan and Zeb stood and left to direct the soldiers onto the freighter, hob-nailed boots clinking on the ladder as they climbed up.

“Sabine, I’ll expect you to manage the ship while I’m gone,” Hera stated, flicking a switch and deactivating their long-range scanner, lest the Imperials pick up on the signal. “Move to the rendezvous point and wait for the Liberty to join us. I’m entrusting you with command of the fleet until then.”

She turned, only to be blocked by Sabine, a look of determination on her face, the hard face that represented an argument brewing. Ezra wisely took that as his que to leave, slipping out into the corridor to join Zeb and Kanan.

Sabine made to speak, but Hera shushed her with a wave of her hand, already knowing what she’d say. “Sabine, I can’t let you go. Not with things between you and Ezra the way they are,” Hera said firmly in hopes of ending the argument there. “You’re going to be a distraction at best.”

“Hera, it’s his fault and you know it!” Sabine shot back, gesturing to where Ezra had just gone in annoyance.

“No, Sabine, it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault, it’s not your fault, or any of our faults’. It is the Empire’s fault. Can you not see that the things they did in the Citadel were to separate you from Ezra? You are doing exactly what they hoped you would, and that is making it difficult for our crew to work together, to reduce our effectiveness and hope that we’d make more mistakes that they could capitalize on.”

Sabine’s eyes widened slightly, but then fixed them back down into a frown as she argued her next point.

“And I have no experience commanding a fleet,” in fairness to her, that was a valid point, but she wasn’t doing much aside from waiting at the rendezvous with Chopper before handing control over to the Captain of the _Liberty._

It was also a very un-Sabine point to argue, one of lack of experience, when normally she’d just stay silent and do her best.

 _She must want to come really badly_ , Hera realized as she looked at the brown eyes.

“You don’t have to do much,” Hera countered after a pause. “Just wait for the _Liberty_ and stay out of the way of the Imperials.”

Sabine rolled her eyes and huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance.

She knew that the pause meant that the Twi’lek was thinking about it, and pressed her advantage. “I’m fully recovered now, and I’m one of the best fighters you’ve got. I’m ready for this. Besides, it’ll do me good to get out again.”

Hera frowned, deliberating the matter carefully. She knew Sabine was mostly favoring her good hand because the doctors told her to rest them, and she should be fine to return to active combat, but that didn't change the fact that she was still at Ezra's throat over what happened, and if that came to a head in the middle of a battle.

Finally, she sighed.

“Fine,” she finally said. “But,” she continued, grabbing Sabine’s arm as she left, “if I think you’re going to be unable to handle an assignment, I’m leaving you at the base, OK?”

Sabine nodded brightly, and made her way to their transport, helmet tucked under one arm, leaving Hera to reflect on the decision, as though Sabine would agree to staying behind once Hera said yes.

She clicked open the comm. “Striker One, slight change of plans. You’re in command of the fleet until the _Liberty_ gets here.”

“Acknowledged,” the captain relied in an instant. “I take it the captain is going down to the surface?”

“Yeah, she is,” Hera walked out of the cockpit, opening the door to the airlock and stepping inside. “At this point, I think she would’ve hijacked the ship if it meant going on the mission.”

“You can hardly blame her,” the captain chuckled as Hera sealed the Ghost’s airlock and moved to their transport. “She’s a Mandalorian who’s spent nearly three months cooped up in a medical ward. I’m honestly surprised she didn’t bring it up sooner.”

Hera stepped into their retrofitted freighter, taking in the scene with an experienced eye.

The ship, despite it’s somewhat smooth appearance on the outside, was far uglier inside. It’d been caved out to fit the seats that lined either side of the craft, illuminated by jury-rigged, electric-blue lighting embedded in the ceiling. The seats had been taken from a variety of craft to house their occupant more securely, and their colours ranged from aquamarine blue to a gaudy yellow that looked faintly sickening. The walls were scarred from where non-essential items had been taken out and replaced with patch-work sealant and what looked like scrap metal, neither of which particularly filled Hera with confidence, and especially not for their equipment, stored in waterproof bags beneath their feet in old smuggling spaces.

“She was probably saving it up for this mission,” Hera continued, scanning the craft for her crew.

Zeb and Kanan were on the starboard side, right near the engines, while Ezra was chatting to a Selkath opposite them. From what she could gather, they were talking about Kolto, one of the galaxy’s most effective natural healing agents, usable on almost every known species and only beaten by non-natural remedies like bacta. Sabine was leaning against the wall closer to the cockpit, watching the rest of their team studiously.

Hera ducked through the door to the cockpit, sitting down in the tattered chair and flicking the engine off standby mode. The ship rumbled as they powered up, and Hera deactivated the airlock, launching from their hiding place as soon as Chopper had moved Ghost out of the way.

“Good luck commander,” Striker One said as the fleet drifted into the asteroid field to hide and the freighter was left facing the Imperial ships alone.

“Thanks,” Hera snapped off the comm and began a slow burn towards the planet, carefully watching the Star Destroyer that lurked over the pole, the black shadow only detectable by the lack of stars above the icecap. “Everyone buckle up,” she opened up the ship speakers as two TIE fighters approached them, assuming an escort position on either side of the freighter.

“Shuttle FN-2187, transmit your clearance codes,” the flight leader ordered them as they approached the planet.

“Shuttle FN-2187, transmitting codes,” Hera pressed a button and sent them the pre-prepared codes to buy them some time until they got close enough to make a run for the surface.

There was a silence as the pilot relayed them to his superiors, then he came back. “Shuttle FN-2187, there is a discrepancy with your codes. Heave to and wait for an Imperial inspection team to arrive.”

Screw that, Hera cursed to herself, slamming on the throttle and sending the oversized engines to full burn. The TIEs were almost a kilometre away by the time they began to pursue, their engines also set to max.

“We’re entering atmosphere,” Hera informed the team over the comm. “Hold on to something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the most irritaiting writer's block for this chapter. I don't even... gah.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. And don't worry, things will improve. I won't say anymore for fears of spoilers.  
> In-system hyperspace jumps are a tactic Thrawn uses, and there is such a thing as Interdicitor Star Destroyers, but mine looks like a normal one, while the normal ones have several large reactors on it. My reasoning is that it's a prototype, and they haven't actually worked out the best way to make an Interdictor Star Destroyer.  
> Also, a 2187 reference. 2187 being Liea's death star holding cell and Finn's FO stormtrooper number.  
> Shoutout to ja54591 on Fanfiction for checking my stuff, and highlighting all those little mistakes that I'd missed while checking myself. He's recently released a new story about Sabine meeting the crew, and it's great.
> 
> Anyway, reviews:
> 
> Fanfiction:
> 
> Specter7: Bravo! Good chapter, very good! I look forward as to where you're going with Sabine and Ezra's interactions. I feel like those two need to be stranded on some far away island so that they're forced to work together and they can settle their feelings :P Keep on going author and update soon  
> Me: Cheers! I have something in mind for them, just not quite so extreme. I also hope this interaction was on-par, but I personally feel it might not've been. 
> 
> Sleepless-actual: Great chapter! Loved it! Oh I got an idea, after a bunch of crap from Sabine, Ezra requests a change of posts to a different squadron. I know weird but damn u don't want this ending.  
> Me: I hadn't thought of that before. I will see where the Scarellia arc takes us first, but I will keep that in mind. Thank you for the idea, the comment, and the continuous support.
> 
> SkytanDemigod15: Love it  
> Me: Yay!
> 
> RebelsFan: Wonder if Hera or the rebel high command is going to say enough is enough and lock Sabine and Ezra inside a room and force Sabine to listen to Ezra, as the Ghost crew can't function as a team with this amount of distrust she has for him. While her distrust of him is understandable it could have deadly consequences for the rebellion if it goes on to long.  
> Me: I have thought of that, and have already worked something out. And I did cover that last point in this chapter :)
> 
> Archive of our Own:
> 
> Stiletto Ren (Stiletto929): Thrawn, yesssssss!!! Hmm, I'll have to read about tectors on wookiepedia.  
> And was that Admiral Ackbar saying, "It's a trap!" Lmao.  
> Me: Indeed it was. I had to get that in somewhere.  
> A Tector-class Star Destroyer lacks a large central hanger, but as a result it has better armour, a stronger reactor, and is just more powerful. It still has the side hangers, and is just that much stronger than a normal Star Destroyer.  
> I had to put that here too so that people would see it.


	14. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick update

Okay, my apologies everyone. I am far busier than I thought I'd be, and I'm going to be even busier soon, which means I'm going to go on at least a 2-week hiatus, most likely 3 weeks.

I apologize for this, but there's too much going on right now for me to update. Sorry.

 

So, depending on how life goes, I might be back on the Saturday in either two weeks or three.#

 

Oh, and I will do a Q&A now as well.

 

Q&A (Fanfiction):

 

RebelsFan: There are parts in this chapter were dialogue was just cut off, mainly when Ezra is in Sabine's room, for example:"he thought about what had happened to her his anger cooling and", you just cut of his sentence. Same thing happens in 2 of the next 3 sentences ("If your still there Ezra, go away. Sabine grumbled and", and "Sabine drew back, shocked by how Ezra") were some thing is cut from there dialogue.

Me: Thank you for making me aware of this. I have rectified this, hopefully before anyone else noticed XD

 

GarynFett: It kills me that Sabine is treating Ezra so poorly. You've perfectly captured her stubborn Mando side. Would she of rather Ezra be tortured as well? He'd of gotten it much, much worse being a Jedi. I hope that at the end of this, you have them make up, and ultimately be together. That would truly make this story perfect.

Me: Thanks :) I do agree, Ezra would've had it much worse, because they could've done much worse to him (Although there is a way to release pain into the force. I believe Redeemed Revan did so while imprisoned under Valkorion (for any SWTOR fans out there). However, it wouldn't have dragged on quite as long when making up, because of how much he cares for Sabine and how he can use the force to sense people's feelings, so he'd know when people were telling the truth. 

 

Sleepless-actual: Another excellent chapter! Goddamn this brings out the feels to read! I might have more ideas if you're interested, but other than that keep it going this is great!

Me: Thank you, and ideas are always, always welcome.

 

Specter7: I like it, author! Good chap. I'm glad Ezra finally piped up about how Sabine was treating her. Keep on going and update soon!

Me: Thanks :) I honestly didn't think this one was that good, but I did have to put a bit more effort into it than normal, because I wasn't in the right mindset for writing but needed to update. I'm glad you thought it was good though. 

 

SkytanDemigod15: Love it plz keep updating

Me: Yes, 2-3 weeks till the next one, I'm afraid.

 

Q&A (Archive of our Own):

 

Stiletto Ren (Stiletto0929): That's no moon ;)

Me: LMAO


	15. Star Wars Rebels - Shattering P14 - Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew reach the surface of Scarellia and link up with their contacts.

Star Wars Rebels – E3 P14 – Arrival

* * *

 

The Imperial fighters had closed the distance far too quickly for Hera’s liking, and she juked out of the way as one of them fired a range finding burst from his cannons.

The ship rumbled as they entered the stratosphere, Imperials giving chase. Green lasers flickered towards the smuggling ship, but their energy dissipated in the fiery wake of the craft as it entered the atmosphere. The engines whined as they pushed downwards, forcing the craft through the thickening atmosphere as fast as it feasibly could.

The view outside gradually shifted from the empty blackness of space to a baby-blue as they got deeper into the atmosphere, a sight which was rudely interrupted by a TIE fighter as it shot past, cloud trailing from its four corners and the neon-blue engines glowing harsher than the surrounding sky.

The Imperial ships hadn’t even bothered to order them to desist their actions, having enough experience to know that they wouldn’t pull over. Instead, they set about harrying the rebel craft as it half-flew half-fell towards the surface.

“Aerobraking in three…” Hera began the countdown, only to be jolted to the side by an explosion and slammed into the radio with a vicious impact that would leave at least a flowering bruise later. “Braking now.”

The rebel craft lurched upwards, shedding speed in return for a measure of control. Outer layers of the hull began peeling off into the air to be whisked away by the wind, such was the viciousness of the manoeuvre. The TIEs overshot the rebel ship, surprised for a second by the hazardous action, but already reacting to the changing situation by charging upwards, guns ablaze.

Hera had no choice but to drop the transport, and she flicked a switch to disable the stabilisers so that the craft could tumble downwards erratically, and hopefully make it harder for the Imperials to hit them.

 _Not a chance_ , Hera mentally sighed as the ship plunged once again, lasers finding their mark on the hull of their transport numerous times, each time taking off some more of their armour. It was only a matter of time until they hit something important.

One of the Imperial pilots deactivated his engines, turning his craft so that the guns were constantly firing at the transport and his craft’s ‘wings’ could slow his ascent. It all went as he’d planned, and the beams of green energy continued to hit the rebel ship as it passed by, even as he slowed, then fell, letting the aerodynamics angle his craft after the rebel ship and gravity drag him down. He didn’t even need to touch the controls once; without wind, the fighter rotated itself to the angle that gave the least resistance to his fall, and he just had to squeeze the trigger.

He grinned in satisfaction as something exploded, and an engine tore past his view as it was left behind in the chase.

“Karabast,” Hera swore in the cockpit as she diverted the power from the life support to the thrusters, flicking a couple of switches to reactivate the stabilizers and doing her best to compensate for the unplanned loss of an engine, even as the Imperial fighter continued to rain green death on them. The ship jerked violently as though it were a wild animal struggling to break free, the imbalanced thrust doing its damnedest to send the craft into uncontrollable cartwheels in the sky, and Hera fought the ship at every shudder, at times nearly having the controls torn from her iron grip.

The two ships tore through the sky, almost a blur as they danced a deadly game of life-or-death. The other fighter was hurtling after them, afterburners set to full and the deflectors to double-front in a desperate effort to catch up to them.

Hera yanked the controls to one side, then up, down, and again to the side, the damned fighter mirroring her every move, relentlessly pursuing her ship with what looked like enviable ease. It’s barrage of death was only interrupted occasionally, when the pilot needed to make a slight course adjustment, or when he was giving his cannons a second to cool down.

There was another rumble, then the controls became lighter, and she was no longer wrestling with the ship.

In fact, she was no longer controlling the ship; the link between the thrusters and controls had been severed, and she was now a helpless passenger trapped inside the doomed freighter.

So, she did the only things she could think of; dump their decoy debris, extend the airbrakes, deactivate the engines and hope for the best.

Their speed slowed drastically, but without the ability to control their fall, something else had to be done, or else they’d be pulverized. At that speed, hitting the water at a bad angle would be like crashing into a small moon. There probably wouldn’t be much for the imperials to find of their ship, let alone their bodies.

The altimeter blinked, warning her that they were just 6000 feet above the sea.

Hera slammed her fist on a nondescript button just above her head, and several durable emergency parachutes left their housings with a bang, deploying almost immediately and stretching their orange-white umbrellas over the ship, granting Hera their first proper view of the planet.

The sea made a remarkable sight, green-blue water lapping at the base of orange cliffs with the light shining down through a clear sky. It was like something out of one of those holiday brochures you could grab at any travel station in the galaxy; a place you could kick back and go swimming, with dozens of little caves and coves to explore.

Hera found herself wishing for a holiday right about then. It beat the hell out of being chased by a TIE-fighter while plunging towards near-certain death, however pretty the view.

Their pursuer nearly cannoned into them, swerving away at the last second, wing-tip so close to the scorched chassis of the rebel ship that it came away trailing soot.

Hera sighed in relief as their in-air-speed slowed to a survivable level, then a comfortable one.

Their craft hit the ocean, spaying water high and momentarily blinding the Imperial fighter as it swung around to take another shot at them, so the pilot pulled up instead to get his bearings.

Hera watched it fly off into the distance towards the wingman, who’d just reached their level and was circling over the water, no-doubt communicating with the ace who’d shot them down.

Hera knew it was an ephemeral respite, so she slapped the button for the speaker system. “Everyone, masks on,” she ordered, preparing to jettison their air-tanks and sink, waiting ten seconds, like they’d discussed, then flicking the protective cap off the button and pressing it.

Nothing. Their ship bobbed merrily on the surface of the sea, the water so clear that she could see right to the bottom, along with what looked like half of their transport, around thirty meters down.

She pressed it again, and a red light blinked at her.

 _Error,_ the screen read. _Error_

The consoles just blared the warning without telling her what was wrong, and soon there was only one thing that could be done; Hera jettisoned the outer walls of the transport and ordered the rebels to abandon ship before the fighters came back.

A flash of green in the corner of her eye was enough warning for her to throw herself across the cockpit and away from the lasers that were now destroying the ship, the lasers audibly finding their mark with deafening thunks, and the screech of weakened metal was enough warning for Hera to know that the hull integrity was rapidly declining.

She got a glimpse of the TIE as it drifted over them, engines inactive and firing as it moved, slowly tracing a path across their hull, then it went out of sight. She could hear the engines stutter as they reactivated, and the high-pitched whine of the fighter signified a short break in which they could escape.

Hera stood up, turquoise water sloshing around her feet as she moved closer to the door. It hissed halfway open, then jammed, and Hera squeezed past it, cursing their shoddy craft and the Imperial pilot who’d totalled their transport and almost killed them all.

The interior was a mess, the water knee-height as the craft tipped backwards slightly under the weight of the engines. The walls, which Hera had been assured would fall away on her order, and not before, were still lodged in place, showing no signs of having moved. The ceiling, however, was shredded, jagged metal casting ominous shadows on the floor of their transport, the gash wide enough to easily fit through, if they could find a way up. Water bubbled up through holes in the floor as they slowly began sinking, the bulges reflecting the entire visible light spectrum back along the walls, illuminating the odd rebel as they pressed up against the side, watching the skies or trying to open one of the side doors. The centre of the craft was slightly warped, jamming the walls and emergency doors in an unrelenting grasp and stopping the trapped rebels from escaping.

The ear-piercing screech of an Imperial fighter tore through the air, and Hera instinctively pressed herself against the wall, sheltering her lekku and closing her eyes as she heard the whistle of nearby lasers and the groan of metal as more of the transport’s casing was destroyed. Their hull integrity must’ve been critical at this point, and Hera both saw and felt the metal buckle at the centre of the craft.

“Everyone, hold on!” She yelled above the rush of water and the scream of metal as the transport finally gave way to the pressure and split in two, rebels spilling out of the gaps and taking to the sea. The front half levelled out, water cascading back to whence it came, while the stern tipped back and plunged downwards, rebels spewing out of it as it sank to the bottom.

Another fighter approached, the cannons already firing as the pilot, most likely the inexperienced wingman, traced his shots to the shattered hull of the intruding ship.

Hera took a deep breath and leaped into the water, snapping her eyes shut as she hit the surface.

It was warm, a comfortable swimming temperature, and there were no waves, only ripples from the wreckage of their ship and the lasers from the TIEs.

The first thing Hera heard when she floated up to the surface was the coughs and shouts of the rebels around her, then the TIE fighters as they flew away, their infernal engines getting more and more distant.

_Wait, away?_

Hera opened her eyes and saw the fighters turning in a wide arc to face them, having flown out at least a kilometre on full afterburner their engines a burning blue that cooled back to normal as they turned.

Not to face them, Hera realised, but something behind them.

Hera looked back and saw a sleek, yet angular warship, engines completely silent as it drifted past them, polished armour plates reflecting the surface of the water like some kind of mirage. A lone gun sat at the bow, tracking the fighters as they skimmed the surface of the water, spraying droplets as they warmed up their cannons. A launcher of some kind sat on the back, also tracking the Imperials, while a scanner system spun over the bridge like a demented rotor blade, but smaller.

There was a deafening crack as the bow-mounted gun fired, a blue-yellow round rocketing through the sky and cutting through the second fighter, the pilot’s capsule disintegrating as the wings fell off and ploughed into the water seconds before the rest of the craft.

Perhaps realising that he couldn’t defeat the destroyer alone, the lead fighter broke off his attack and turned to land, kicking his fighter into overdrive in an attempt to escape.

There was a thump and a whoosh, and Hera saw the missile system launch a single heat-seeker after the Imperial. The missile streaked after the TIE fighter, and the rebels cheered as the distance closed.

Suddenly, the TIE whipped to the side and the missile flew between the wings with inches to spare. There was a collective sigh as the fighter rotated back in a split-second and continued its previous course heading into the sunset, then they winced as it shot their missile out of the air in one final F-you gesture to the rebels who’d escaped death by seconds.

* * *

 

Hera watched the ship drift over to them slowly, ladders being lowered from where they were clamped to the hull. Rebels climbed aboard one by one, while their Selkath compatriot Ezra had been speaking to breached the surface not far from the vessel, dragging two waterproof bags up with him. It was some of their equipment, and these ones were still sealed, judging by the way they bulged with air.

Hera swam over to the destroyer, the water rippling gently and distorting her view of the seabed. The day suddenly seemed much brighter, swimming in warm water on a beautiful planet, with no immediate threat and an allied warship drifting nearby.

She slapped a hand on the cool metal rung of the ladder, hauling herself up. Water cascaded off her as she climbed, showering down in shimmering arcs and raining down onto the rebel below her.

Up on the deck, blue-uniformed personnel handed out towels to the rebels, while others dashed between decks to fulfil some task or other. Above them, the RADAR had slowed it’s spinning down to a more reasonable rate, and the missile launcher had returned to its resting position, laying down horizontally across the deck with the missile hatches closing. The gun had also returned to its ‘resting’ position, the barrel facing the open ocean at the front of the boat.

Watching with a smile, an official stood above them, hands clasped behind his back. His uniform was jet-black, neatly pressed, gold-red ceremonial insignia bars winking in the light. Across his chest were a variety of medals and decorations for valour, each one polished and shining. His cap had a single sword in the centre, interlaced with lightning and circled by a band of golden metal. Engraved in the metal were the words _Progredere ne regredere._ Ever forward, never back.

“I assume you’re Commander Syndulla?” The official asked with a grin as she walked up, observing the rebels dry off on the deck of the Royal warship.

“I am indeed,” She replied warmly, also smiling as she watched the Selkath bring another two waterproof bags with their equipment inside. “And you are?”

“Ace General Firth,” the general made a courteous bow. “But call me Firth.”

So, this was the general their contacts had spoken so highly of.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he continued as the Selkath dived down again to retrieve another pair of bags.

“Likewise,” she watched the last pair of bags come up, one of them ripped and melted. No doubt the equipment inside hadn’t fared any better.

The ship rumbled and they began lurching forward, the bow slicing through the water with ease. Remarkably, as Hera looked at them from above, the rebels were unharmed aside from the odd cut or bruise. Even as she thought about it, her own side stung, an unwelcome reminder about how she’d been slammed into their radio on the way down.

“Okay,” she sighed, turning to the general. “Where do we stand?”

“For now, you’re just being escorted to the base camp,” he replied instantly, taking off his cap and relaxing a bit now that they were underway and not as vulnerable to attack. “I’ll drop you off in about an hour, and, god-willing, another team will be there to take you to the headquarters. I will be joining you the next day, once we stash the destroyer away somewhere.”

Hera nodded. “Anything else?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid. Operational security,” he frowned as the scanning system whirred slightly faster. “Hang on. Something’s happened.”

There was a shout from one of the crew, and the gun swivelled around to track the new threat. A TIE striker flew towards them, juking out of the way as the gun fired once, the blue-yellow round tracing a path through the air just past one of its wings. It must’ve been heading to aid the fighters when they reported the transport had crashed into the water.

“He can’t out-run us,” Firth said, walking up to the steps to the bridge. “His only chance to survive is to attack us, and hope to disable one of our critical systems.”

Rather than go inside the bridge, he stepped onto the platform outside it, stopping and folding his arms as he watched the imperial approach. The Striker was flying low, trying to stay out of the way of their missile launcher, which was struggling to track it against the warm water.

“Captain, bring us around to point two-three,” Firth shouted through one of the open windows. “Launch smokes at the hostile in thirty seconds, and aim the gun just above the edge of the smoke. Charge the gun but don’t fire.”

Hera watched, slightly nervously, as the Striker fired a short burst towards them, the green lasers splashing into the sea or completely overshooting.

“Shouldn’t we get to cover?” she asked, walking up beside him. “It wouldn’t do anyone any good if we both died minutes after getting here.”

“Hera, believe me, nothing is quite so exhilarating as getting shot at without result.” He grinned, as the smoke launchers fired and the target was shrouded in a thick, grey fog. “Fire the gun captain.”

As he’d guessed, the pilot, without the ability to see anything, pulled up slightly to get his sight back.

And flew right into the path of the oncoming round.

The fighter shattered and exploded in a whirl of colours, and the general grinned as the smoking remains of the craft dropped into the sea.

“So, nothing to worry about,” he turned back to Hera, leaning on the railing and relaxing, ignoring the bubbles emerging from the ocean where the craft was shot down. “I also believe there is a certain Sabine Wren amongst your crew, is there not?”

Hera nodded, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, but how did you know she would be coming?”

“I didn’t,” he stood up and walked around the side of the deck, opening the bridge door and holding it open for Hera, who stepped inside.

* * *

 

The air was cool and crisp, a drastic change from the warmth and humidity outside. The crew, although relaxed, were alert and obviously well-trained, managing the systems with practiced ease. There were some quiet murmurs as scan data came back and a system-check was run, the captain’s holoscreen pinging green as it finished with no issues detected.

“This way,” Firth led Hera to a locker installed in the wall, turning the dial to unlock it and reveal a black duffle bag. “A gift from your sleeper agent. Fulcrum sends his regards.”

Hera grinned as she took it, the distinctive bulge of a helmet protruding outwards from one end.

Kallus had really gone above the call of duty this time.

“We’d best take this to her now,” Firth smiled as she said that and they walked out of the bridge again, feet making metallic clanks on the grated steps as they walked down, once again bathed in the warm, humid air.

Sabine was sitting to the edge of the rebel group, leaning against the wall in her uncomfortable armour, the black material doing nothing to cool her down. Most of the rebels were drying their equipment, wringing out shirts and cleaning blasters, freeing them of any salt that might’ve gotten trapped in the barrels. Some half of them were bare-chested, even sunbathing as their shirts dried out.

Sabine looked up as Hera and the General approached, curiously eyeing the duffel bag in Hera’s arms.

“What’s in the bag?” she asked inquisitively, standing up as the other two stopped. Hera reached over to the end of the bag, and unzipped it.

The light flashed off the colourful armour and Sabine gave a gasp of surprise, her eyes opening wide in shock, and, Hera hoped, pleasure.

“Where did you get it?” she grabbed the helmet out of the bag and scanned it with a frantic eye, double, then triple-checking it to make sure it was hers, and not a fake.

It was, of course, the real one, and the polished metal winked at her in the sun, a myriad of colours glowing better than Sabine had ever been able to get them to do.

“Thank Kallus for that,” Hera handed Sabine the bag, and Sabine put it on the floor, setting her helmet down beside it to take out the rest of the armour. The chest-piece, shoulder pads, vambraces, even her pistols and their holsters. They were all there, shining in the light, cleaner than the day they were taken from her, no doubt thanks to Kallus polishing them before he sent them off.

And the underlay. That was there, complete with the hole that’d been burned through her to the other side, blood still staining the area around it.

Hera’s smile dropped as Sabine frowned, looking at the blood that still stained the underlay and instantly realizing that the memories that it’d brought might not’ve been the best.

Then Ezra’s inquisitive head popped up in the corner of Hera’s eye, the blue-hair stopping just on the edge, and they all turned to see the smile frozen on his face, and then it dropped when he saw the blood.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Sabine looked worriedly at Ezra for a second, then her face hardened as she remembered that others were watching, and she looked away.

Firth, of course, had seen the whole exchange. He stepped up, his previous good mood having evaporated as he studied the situation.

“Is there anything going on between you two that I need to know of?” he asked the two teenagers, who avoided his gaze, Sabine looking out to sea, Ezra at the ground.

“No,” they answered simultaneously, then looked at each other, Sabine with irritation and Ezra with sadness.

The general folded his arms and looked down on them sternly. “Be honest. I need to know these things. If you two will have issues in the field and I don’t know about it, it could cost lives.”

It was sound logic, and they both hung their heads, neither of them willing to be the one to speak first.

“Will it affect us in combat?” He repeated calmly, but firmly. Both Sabine and Ezra shook their heads, looking back up and staring into his eyes. They were both confident in that at least, and he hummed in thought, considering whether to pursue the issue.

“Okay,” he said after a few seconds. “But let me know if anything comes up.”

Ezra nodded as he left, and both Hera and Firth headed back up to the platform and, where they leant on the railings, looking at the ocean as it streatched towards them, the vast cliffs to their left, setting sun to the right. The warship sliced through the water with ease, barely making a sound as the engines chugged silently.

“When did you join the royal army?” Hera asked as she watched the blue uniforms scurry around the deck below them, and then back up to Firth’s jet-black uniform, the fabric almost seeming to eat up the light.

He snorted in amusement. “I’m a _military attaché_ ,” he ran a hand through his hair, still watching the ocean as he smirked. “I think the Field Marshall just wants me out of the way during the negotiations. I’m too much of a nuisance to have around, but he can’t get me executed because I’ve gotten the favour of both the Emperor and the soldiers.” He shook his head at his bizarre, unrealistic situation as he continued. “Somehow, I’m now the commander of an entire armored division in the army my country was fighting to destroy before the collapse of the republic, and stuck with it for the fifteen years between the Empire stopping the war and now."

“At least you don’t have to deal with the politics,” Hera joked, and he gave a short laugh.

“Indeed. I would much rather lead the troops than bicker about borders or trade deals,” he gave Hera a slight grin as he continued. “You know what they say. Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions.”

It was Hera’s turn to laugh, and they continued to talk as the ship travelled, making its way down the coast at a rapid 60 knots, the sun casting an orange glow over everything within sight. Eventually, they reached their drop-off point, a nondescript cove in one of the cliffs, a small band of people waiting for them.

“I’m afraid we must part ways here,” Firth said as they left the platform and went down to one of the ladders hanging over the side of the ship, where the rebels were already climbing down. “I must stash the ship somewhere, then go to meet you. Best of luck commander.”

“And to you,” she went to the ladder, then began climbing down. The metal was wet, but not slippery, and she reached the bottom quickly, where the rest of the team was already hiking upwards along a narrow path towards the top of the cliffs. The cliff was steep, and the path seemed barely wide enough for a single rebel, and was extensively pot-holed to boot.

A single resistance member walked up to her, rifle slung over his shoulder and tied to his backpack to stop it from swinging around. His outfit was really mixed, as was most of their escort. He sported a grey undersuit that may or may not have once been part of a Stormtrooper’s uniform, and two clashing camouflage sets, one a woodland MARPAT overcoat, the other a sandy beige-pink trouser set of desert trousers that barely fit him. His bag was a rugged ex-Imperial, a mixture of green and black that was clearly designed for jungle combat.

“Hello commander. I’m Quar,” he introduced himself quickly, turning on his heel as Hera began walking forward. “We must go as soon as possible. Once the Imperials know that you’re no longer under the protection of the ship, they will come after us.”

Hera nodded and they followed the others quickly, scrambling up the path to catch up with the others. A quick glance back revealed that the destroyer had vanished, leaving shimmering water in its wake.

* * *

 

Hera’s hands scrabbled at the ground, loose rocks and sand tumbling off the edge and down, down several hundred meters to the bottom, adding to the piles knocked off by their guides earlier. Some of the larger rebels were finding the climb particularly difficult, pressing their bodies to the cliff face to maintain their balance, while the smaller ones like Ezra and Sabine were going much more casually. Even as she watched, Ezra half-stood to get a view of the bay, only for Kanan to tell him to continue climbing.

They reached the top of the cliff, darting into cover behind the sparse shrubs and dips in the ground as they waited for the last few people to join them.

“What are we waiting for?” Hera inquired as she crouched next to Quar behind a small bush, drawing her pistol when she saw him unsling his rifle. It was silent, the evening air still and warm. Nothing seemed to even breathe, and Hera could feel the tension in the air rise.

“The Imperials have been known ambush our people in situations such as these,” he whispered his reply, eyes scanning the undergrowth ahead of them, further back from the cliff. “They might be waiting to get us as soon as we expose ourselves.

He let out a short whistle, clicking his tongue twice to get one of his team to watch him. When the rebel complied, Quar made a small circling motion with his finger, left to right, and the rebel nodded, carefully laying down and keeping his rifle pointed forward at all times. Then he slung his rifle and crawled, much faster than Hera though one could crawl without making a sound.

Hera kept her pistol out, scanning the treeline for movement without turning her head. She ignored an inquisitive insect as it buzzed around her head, and sweat dripped down her back, tracing a path down her back.

She briefly considered the wordless communication between Quar and his second-in-command, wondering whether each of his rebels had their own numbers, and responded to their designated number of clicks.

There was a rustle, and then a probe droid burst out of the foliage, twin blasters firing at the rebels wildly in hopes of forcing them to duck down and thus pose no resistance to its escape.

Undeterred, one of their escorts leaped out of hiding and, after a brief sprint, slid down onto one knee in front of the Imperial droid, weapon tracking it the entire time.

There was a crack, and a blue-yellow round burst out of the tip of the gun, catching the droid in the centre eye and destroying its processing unit. The carcass tumbled forward and burrowed itself into the ground, throwing up dust and stones.

Quar wasted no time, standing and directing two of his guys to flank left to join their comrade, and then three more to take the right to cover that flank. Another hand-chop sent another trio forward to scout out in front of them.

“We need to get moving,” he said, voice low but urgent as she stood as well. “The probe would’ve reported our position the instant we came up to the top of the cliffs.

Hera nodded, and the remaining rebels rose as one, guns out and pointed forward as they began a steady jog into the slightly thicker undergrowth, one of Quar’s team sticking to a rebel each, creating groups of two that were unevenly spread out, but no-one was within a couple meters of each other.

The logic was sound; should they be ambushed, they wouldn’t all be wiped out in one go, and anyone hit could be treated by their partner without needing to risk someone by sending them to help.

They suddenly broke the treeline, and paused by the side of a road, which streatched for miles along in each direction, and listened for any approaching vehicles.

There. The dull hum of a hover-vehicle.

“Imperial Troop Transport,” Quar hissed, slithering forward and dropping into a ditch by the roadside, followed by Hera. It was dusty and dry, and most of their team was already inside.

Quar peeked over the edge of the ditch. It afforded their best cover; the rest of the cliff top on their side was sparse in comparison to the other side, which had thicker trees and was more densely populated and thus easier to hide in.

“We wait here,” he said, dropping back down as the Imperials seemed to materialize in front of them, the light and dust having his both them and the rebels now crouching in the ditch.

The rebels crouched in the ditch, watching the troop-carrier drift past them, escorting stormtroopers who were relaxed, but alert, scanning for the hostiles who’d escaped their ace pilot. 

Without warning, they all broke off to their side of the road, guns raised and pointing to where the rebels had been reported a few minutes ago. The transport swung around to the side and began crashing through the undergrowth, some Imperials grabbing onto it and riding it forward as it picked up speed.

If they’d been even a minute late, they would’ve been caught, and Hera realized that they were now playing a completely different ball-game. Unlike the Lothal sector, the Imperials were effective, the Stormtroopers well-trained, and the resistance was struggling to fight back.

“Cross now, before they discover our absence,” Quar said as he hauled himself up. "Let's get the bikes and go."

They climbed out of the ditch and continued into the bush. In a minute, they reached a clearing, several old-fashioned motorbikes, complete with rugged wheels and powerful engines. They mounted up, 3 to a bike. The quiet rumbles of the engine seemed to split the night, but they knew the Empire wouldn't be able to hear them.

* * *

 

"How far is it?" Ezra asked his driver as someone got on the bike behind him and wrapped their arms around his waist and they set off.

"A few miles, give or take," their escort replied, carefully navigating their bike into position in the middle of the convoy, bouncing along the dusty track. "It'll take us a couple of hours, so I hope you're comfortable."

The person behind Ezra shifted themselves slightly so they were leaning on him, and he looked round to see who it was.

Sabine's eyes met his, and then slid away to away to look at the path in front.  
"I thought you weren't ready for this kind of intimacy," Ezra teased, drawing her eyes back and getting a flicker of a smile in return, before her face hardened as she reminded herself that she was supposed to be angry with him. It was, of course, a futile effort at this point, but she tried anyway.

"We may as well put our hands on each other’s hips and form a conga line," the driver joked, oblivious to the silent messages Ezra and Sabine were giving each other. 

They rumbled across the path and out onto a plain, grass whipping away from the bikes as they passed. The mesa streatched into the distance, rolling on without a break in the height of the skyline and Ezra watched the sunset in the distance quietly.

"Looks like we're going to have some rain," the driver commented as storm clouds tumbled their way across the darkening sky. It was evening, but the sun wasn’t due to go down for another hour at least.

"Oh, great," said Ezra as Sabine and the driver put helmets on. "What do I get?"

"Wet," they said simultaneously and Ezra sighed. 

"I'm gonna need to borrow your night vision," the driver said as the sky got darker and darker, rain beginning to spatter down onto their shoulders. Sabine unscrewed it from her helmet and handed it to the driver, who let go of the handles for a few seconds as he strapped it onto his helmet.

They trundled along, lights off in the dark and pounded by downpour of rain, visibility being reduced to literally a meter as Ezra continuously blinked away the water that reached his eyes, struggling to see. The wasn’t anything to see anyway, not with the sun down and the moon blocked by the clouds.

“You OK?” he heard the voice above the rain, and he spluttered a “Yeah” back to Sabine, lowering his head to spare his face from the barrage of rain.

They continued to drive, the tires throwing up mud in their wake, splattering the legs of the two passengers sitting at the back.

It was probably a good thing Sabine wasn’t wearing her armour, Ezra reflected as they bounced across another small stream. The armour in question was still in its bag, aside from the helmet, as clean as they were when they’d been returned, and would remain clean as long as they were within the bag.

After what felt like an eternity, he spotted something in the distance. A light, blinking out at them, and their driver responded by flashing his own bike’s light twice.

“We’re coming in now,” the driver shouted back to them, and as they approached the light, a door opened up, spilling light out over the grassland outside. It looked, from what he could tell, a garage, with a single tank parked inside. The rest of the room was empty, the space left for their bikes.

The bike slowed as they entered the garage, the door shutting as soon as they were all in.

* * *

 

Ezra stretched once he got off, ignoring the mud as it slid off his feet and caked the floor, added to by Sabine as she walked past to get her night-vision from their driver. A glance around showed that their bikes were already being taken by some engineers, cleaning the tyres and checking the fuel-lines for damage.

He was quite tired, in all honesty. Aside from their descent and that brief encounter on the cliff-top he'd hardly done a thing, but it was much later for him than the planet, and he barely stifled a yawn as he watched everyone congregate by one wall, moving to join them.

“Through this way,” Quar told them, wasting no time as he walked through the door, and down a flight of stairs, pursued by Hera and the others. The stairwell was lit by a lone light above them, and random shadows were cast as the light fell through the holes in the steps.

Down at the bottom, there was a corridor, stretching down on either side of the staircase. People in varying uniforms walked up and down with differing urgency. Some carried data reports, or man-handled boxes, while others went with free hands. In front of them, a door labelled WARSPEC opened to reveal an ageing man clad in the same jet-black uniform as Firth, only with a different, more elaborate set of insignia. He stared at the new arrivals with boredom, and then made his way down the corridor in the opposite direction.

They were taken by other resistance members then, separated and directed to rooms to one side of the base. They passed by several rooms, all bearing various plaques and descriptions, from barracks corridors to communications to sanitation. At one point they passed by one room in which a furious row could be heard along what seemed like the entire corridor, the voices changing language a couple of times as the occupants hollered at each other. An ashen-faced Lieutenant leaped out of the room and slammed the door behind him, gasping and wiping a sweaty brow. The voices didn’t stop, like the occupants hadn’t even noticed the departure, and he darted to safety ahead of the group, leaping into a common room off to one side.

They were taken down separate corridors, one for the males, the other for females, and Ezra was taken to one of the bunk rooms with four others he didn’t get a look at before the door swung open and he stepped inside.

It was a sparse affair, a pair of semi-rusty bunk beds, a bathroom off to one side, and a few lockers scattered around. The walls were faded, and the floor badly scuffed, but nothing was dirty or damaged, and could even considered sterile. There was a small, silent vent and an air-con unit on the far wall, close enough to the bathroom that his eyes were dragged over to that next, and he could see a tiled room with a lone shower, toilet, and sink with some really weird plumbing extending out beneath it. Looking back as he stepped in, he saw that his roommates were the Selkath and two other humans, which wasn’t too disagreeable, however fishy their room might smell the next day.

He took the opportunity to shower as the two humans brought up their sleeping arrangements, quickly concluding that the Selkath should take one of the lower bunks, and then began bickering over which one of them would take the other bottom one, as both of them wanted to do so.

He took just a few minutes, changing and clambering into his bunk above the Selkath and laying down, staring at the ceiling. A quick glance at his datapad told him that, although the time on the planet was only approaching 9pm, the galactic standard time that the Rebellion used was almost one in the morning, so Ezra switched off the datapad and yawned, letting himself drift off to sleep.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm sorry for not getting this out sooner. The last week was unbelievably busy, and when I did have time, I usually didn't have the motivation to write (still don't lol). Within this though, I developed a new story arc, wrote a 6k word stand-alone that is completely unrelated to this, revived a (very) old idea, and created a new character. On top of my work. And watching TCW and rebels again (more inspiration, you know?) Mostly the lightsaber fights. And briefly reviewing the entire KOTOR and KOTOR II story-line. And the Eternal Empire storyline for SWTOR.
> 
> Anyway, what did you guys think, what did I do right/wrong and any ideas you have please bombard me with them. Wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy (Knights of the Old Republic reference for those who have played it)
> 
> As usual, shout-out to ja54591 for checking things over, even though he is really busy. 
> 
> Reviews (Fanfiction):
> 
> GM Creed: Did you get inspiration from Call of Duty: Black Ops? Because I can't see Sabine acting like this on the show. Also, she is acting like a sleeping agent for the Empire and her mistreatment of Ezra is just a distraction. Would explain how Thrawn found them, now wouldn't it? Plot twist.  
> Me: I had her react in what I thought was a reasonable way, considering the Empire nigh-brainwashed her into believing Ezra was a traitor and everyone she cared about was either dead or hated her (or both).  
> But in a few ways, yes. It is a great story.
> 
> BananaColada: I love this so far! KEEP IT UP  
> Me: Will do.
> 
> Nathan: I don't know how you did it, but you written a story that is much better that any episode of rebels. Also, I was tossing around ideas and thought that you could bring back the hacker kid from mystery of a thousand moons as a rebel at some point, just a suggestion you can use later on in the story. Keep up the good work, and please give us a longer chapter after your hiatusc M8.  
> Me: You think so? Thanks :) I try my best. As for the hacker kid, I did mull it over, but nothing for his inclusion has sprung to mind yet.  
> I'm not sure if 6.3k words is a longer chapter for this series, but I do have a few longer ones brewing on the horizon. 
> 
> SkytanDemigod15: Please update soon I really would like to read more! :)  
> Me: Yeah, I try update as frequently as possible. Sorry for the long wait.
> 
>  
> 
> Review (Archive of Our Own):
> 
> SabineandEzraWren: Question what will Ezra do at the eventual braking point for him, I'm mean I have a feeling what he might do to himself and his light saber  
> Me: Ah, nothing so dark yet. Give me another few chapters. I'm purposefully leaving a lot of the story open-ended so I can fit in any flashes of inspiration I get. Revealing anything else would compromise the story a little, so I'll leave it there.


	16. Update 2

Again, I'm so sorry, but my computer gave me the bluescreen of death a couple of days ago, and I'm still in the process of extracting my work. I cannot safely say when the next update will be, but not next Saturday either. I am so sorry. If it's any consolation, things were moving really slowly anyway, so this gives me more time to work on it. 

 

Anyway, Q&A I guess...

 

Fanfiction:

 

GarynFett: Ultimately, I'm hoping this story ends with Ezra and Sabine together. I really don't see any other logical outcome.

Me: I hope so too, but all things are subject to change. No promises.

 

Sleepless-Actual: This was a great chapter! Keep it up! Also is three no longer any conflict between Ezra and Sabine?

Me: Thanks. And wait for the next one (I'd like to say 2 weeks... No guarantees)

 

Nathan: Still love the story, and yes, I would consider this a longer chapter, thanks, also, a couple suggestions if you did want to bring back the hacker kid is either with some big droid army to roll in and take back Lothal (might be a bit drastic, maybe when the rebellion gets much bigger), Or you could use him to turn the tide in an epic space battle by popping in with another version of the Malevolence, I would call it the Benevolence for some sort of wordplay (or maybe the empire got their hands on some of the wreckage of the original Malevolence, there's some food for thought.) I love what you're doing with Ezra and Sabine's relationship, although it's kind of funny that Sabine couldn't stay mad at him. As always, keep up the great work. Nathan out.

Me: I don't think I'll bring him in, unfortunately. Just not feeling it, although the Malevolence / Benevolance idea is quite cool. Also, wait for the next chapter. All will be revealed. Sorry for the long waiting time.

 

 


	17. Update f***ing 3...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More BS happening in real life.

So... Where to begin.

I really had a motivation blow recently. I have no doubt that you're fed up of yet more excuses and want that next juicy chapter to read. Only there isn't really a chapter. I have written loads for other chapters later on, just not the one I'm supposed to make (It's stuck at 4002 words right now). I created new storylines for other series, totaling to 3 new Star Wars, 1 Overwatch (I know, what? Don't ask), and a couple of other things, as well as doing other things over the summer. I created 6 planets in brilliant detail, a couple of new characters, an entire species of reptile, updated a different story (which I'd already begun writing), and a couple of other things besides.

So why haven't I written out the chapter I was supposed to?

Because it's a shitty chapter. Not as story or writing or anything, but it's just politics, and lots of talking without descriptions and a whole load of mess. I just don't really know what to do with it, and I can't really start over because it's a bit important. It's just a massive mess of writer's block and various other things besides.

As for updates... well, I don't know. It's been a shit time recently because the workload has gone up and I lost ALL of last year's work... meaning I have to restart ALL of my notes from scratch. In the most crucial year. I am going to be so busy these next few months. Really, really fucking busy.

I can't guarantee a minimum upload time, so let's just say it'll be sporadic, although may increase as time goes on, because it's just that one chapter blocking my progress. I have the next one after it all fired up, so IDK what's going on with it. I'll do some reviews here because why not. I do them in order of how Fanfiction arranges them (normally most recent are first). Special shoutout to everyone who's hung around so far.

Thanks for all the support, and, again, apologies.

.

Reviews (Fanfiction):

 

SkytanDemigod15: Can't wait

Me: Sorry about the wait :/

 

Sleepless-actual: Hey good luck with a 'll that is happening!

Me: Thanks. Sorry about the delays

 

Nathan: Happy Fourth of July everybody!

M8, I think this fic is gr8, and on a scale of 1-8, I'd r8 8 out of 8 m8.

(on a side note, hope you can get all your stuff off you're computer M8.

Me: Cheers. I managed to get most of it off. Also, I'll see what I can do for the thing, even if it is *really* late for your birthday.

 

GM Creed: Question 1: Will there be a fight between Sabine and Ezra that'll involve blood? Question 2: Will Sabine have a hallucination scene like at the end of Call of Duty: Black Ops before the last boss battle in the campaign? Question 3: Will the ending be a satisfying one? And question 4: Will any Legends content be added to the story?

Me: 1 - Undecided. Leaning yes.

2 - Undecided.

3 - That depends on what you'd classify as 'satisfying' although I have an end in mind now

4 - Legends content is already in the story.

 

Guest: I love the whole idea of 21st century vehicles in Star Wars and I also like how you have done the sabezra storyline, it's gritty and real which is way better than some sabezra fics I've seen, it's a shame really that there aren't more sabezra fics like this.

Me: Thank you very much :) I have a few ideas for these vehicles. I really miss proper tanks in Star Wars. ;)

 

GarynFett: "But all things are subject to change." If you hurt my heart with no Ezrabine, I will haunt you. XD

Me: plz no haunts.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy the series so far. I hope to update at least once weekly, but will try for more if I have spare time. I also try to include some decent banter (British banter FTW) The inappropriate stuff you hear in a boy's boarding house tends to not fit too well into fanfics, but I do try to at least nod to some of the things that I do. In "Breakdown", the bit where Sabine had painted Ezra's toothbrush was actually based off a prank done on me when my friends painted it pink. Except it didn't come off in the water :P
> 
> Advice, constructive criticism and anything else are always welcome. LMK what I've messed up (There's probably something, knowing me) and I hope you enjoyed this. Kudos if you loved, because it encourages me to continue when you do so because I know then that people like it.


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